


One of a kind

by MalicMalic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actor Chris Evans, Adorable, Anal Sex, Angelic Grace as Lube (Supernatural), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Bathtubs, Blankets, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bonding, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bubble Bath, Choking, Coffee, Danger on the horisont, Delusional Michael, Dog Loki does tricks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Falling In Love, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Force Bondage, Grinding, Happy Ending, Human Michael (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, Insecure Michael, Jokes, Light Bondage, Love Triangles, M/M, Making Love, Mary Winchester is speechless, Michael looses his virginity, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Mine!, Multiple possession, Overwhelmed Michael, Ownership, Possession, Rape/Non-con Elements, Raped Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Gets A Dog, Sam Winchester Wants a Dog, Sex, Sharing of Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Smut, Teasing, Top Michael, Virgin Michael, choke kink, her son is with an archangel, owning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 32,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24792781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalicMalic/pseuds/MalicMalic
Summary: Someone told me that someone told them there aren't enough of Michael/Dean fics out there. Let's change that. While we're at it, why not add another Michael to the mix and see what happens.
Relationships: Apocalypseverse Michael & Dean Winchester, Apocalypseverse Michael/Dean Winchester, Michael & Dean Winchester, Michael/Dean Winchester
Comments: 357
Kudos: 144





	1. Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkangel/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Roles Reversed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23051635) by [vrskaandrea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vrskaandrea/pseuds/vrskaandrea). 



This is a terrible idea.

And Sam knows it.

But he is still going through with it.

His brother is gone, nothing but a shell, a suit for some alien archangel to wear. And it isn't even prom night. And what does Sam do? The same fucking thing each of them does when the other brother is in peril. He makes a deal.

Maybe this one won't backfire on him? Last time he was here, Lucifer got out. Maybe it will be different with this Michael. Maybe his time in the cage has changed him.

Oh, who was he kidding? This was a terrible idea, releasing another archangel just for a slim chance he would get his brother back. And the worst part? Deep down he knew this Michael would want him for himself. Dean was, is, and forever will be his sword, his perfect vessel, the one true body meant for the archangel.

And still he is going through with it.

He has just lost Dean too many times. And twice to this douchebag of an archangel. Once in that church, the second time in that office building in Kansas. He just... Slipped out of those cuffs and slipped out of their hands and then... He was gone.

Sam took a deep breath and released it, closing his eyes for a moment. He looked a bit to the left where Rowena was standing by the table, spell in hand, bowl burning, ready on his mark. He nodded.

Rowena started chanting, and the fire around the makeshift cage lit up and then there was a shadow looming inside. A light of the fire flickered across the figure's face and Sam gasped, remembering those fearful blue eyes watching him ten years ago.

Adam hasn't aged one bit.

The fire around the cage toned down just in time for Sam to hear rapid footsteps coming from behind him, a familiar ruffle of that damn trenchcoat and he turned to see the angel approach, fearsome and dangerous.

"Sam!" His deep voice echoed through the deepest pit of Hell and Sam gasped, busted. He told Cas about this idea and immediately Cas shut it down, trying to persuade Sam it would only serve to make things worse. And he was so adamant about it that Sam ended up making a promise that he wouldn't open the cage and release Michael. He lied.

"Sam!" This time, Castiel's voice was laced with a high concern, alarm even and Sam's eyes snapped back before him just in time to see Adam stepping forward from the cage with a blank, zombie like expression, reaching for him. Sam stumbled back, his chest barely escaping Adam's touch and before he knew it, the human body before him crumbled into ashes, drifting away on some strange wind, twirling and dancing in mid air, then slowly dispersed all around.

"Damn it, Sam! What did you do?!"

Indeed, what did he do? He just released one more Dean-hungry monster to stop another. Did he really thought it would end well?


	2. Cracks in the mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place before the previous one, before Duluth and Kansas, just after Dean killed Lucifer.

Dean knew something was wrong when he felt a strange pull deep in his gut, vastly coming to the realization of what it was. "We had a deal!" He yelled before the world went completely dark.

Next time he woke up, he was staring at his own reflection in a store window, noticing the change in attire. But then his head moved to a tilt, his eyes watching him with slight curiosity and then... Then he was the reflection and Michael was watching him from the busy street. He screamed, but no sound came out. He raised his hands to ram at the glass window, but it didn't smash.

"Well... This should be fun..." Dean heard his voice speak up, feeling so wrong to his ears and fell into darkness once more.

An image of a stunning blond woman flashed before his eyes. She had full lips, deep blue eyes, and to be honest, the most impressive rack Dean has seen. She was sitting on a high chair in what seemed like a bar and she was smiling seductively at him. Dean had no idea what was going on, but the next time he came to, he was fucking her so hard, her breasts were jiggling up and down and she was screaming with pleasure.

But it was wrong. Dean felt it was wrong, even if he didn't know what it was. His mind seemed to be disconnected from not just his body, but from other parts too, from his memories and any logical thought. Still, he knew something was different, wrong.

"Don't... Don't cum inside..." The girl said between breaths, and he realized he didn't have a condom on, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't control his actions, he couldn't move a single muscle. Panic arose because he could feel how close he was, and he couldn't pull out.

"Ss..Stop..." She said and tried to make him stop, but he slapped her hard and twirled his fingers around her neck, squeezing a bit, never slowing his movements. She tried to scream, but he squeezed her throat and all that came out was a choke. Her hands were at his, scratching and trying to pry his fingers open as she went from flushed pink, to red to turning slightly purple in the face. Dean's grip eased just enough for her to take a breath and was back to choking her, a part of him feeling aroused by the sounds and the fear in her eyes.

He thrusted hard a few more times before he came, spilling everything he had inside of her, and then pulled out. Juices dripped of his still hard cock and Dean was suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of arousal that just didn't seem natural. His cock twitched playfully and he released his grip on the woman's neck long enough for her to take another breath.

_You like to leave them breathless, don't you, Dean?_

A voice sounded in his head and Dean realized – he wasn't alone. Memories poured in all at once and Dean mentally gasped. This... This wasn't him. This was Michael.

_Hm... Maybe we could make her... Even more breathless... What do you think, Dean?_

He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to yell no, he wanted to do something, fucking anything, but all he could do is watch as his own hand squeezed her throat again and pulled her closer. He could hear his own voice say in a mocking way "Open wide..." and he could see the exact moment she broke and opened her mouth, choosing this over getting hurt even more.

His own hand held the back of her head as he slammed his own cock all the way into her mouth over and over, stopping every once in a while with his dick deep down her throat just to hear that choking sound. It went on for too long before he felt that bubbling in the pit of his stomach, and he felt his hips ease their thrusts, his cock choking her one last time before he gripped her head more tightly and started impaling her mouth on his dick.

When he came, his dick was lodged deep down her throat, spilling his cum directly down, and he could see her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she drifted between consciousness.

_I think she is at a complete loss for words, what do you think Dean?_

Dean felt another surge of arousal filling his body, and he watched as Michael pulled his dick out of her mouth and grabbed her by the hair, only to turn her around, facing away from them.

_But I don't think we blew her mind just yet... Oh, what's the matter Dean? Did you always dream about a girl letting you do this? Barbie here is willing..._

Dean wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. If he was in control of his own body, he would probably puke that bile that started to rose up, but Michael just shoved it down without a flinch. One thing Dean did manage to do is let a tear roll down his cheek the moment he heard her deafening scream caused by his cock penetrating her ass hole with such force, he tore her open.

He felt how tight she was, he felt how warm she was, he felt the blood lubing his thrusts. He could never unhear her pleads and cries and he could only hope once he came for the third time, Michael would leave the poor girl alone.

"Do you still don't want me to cum inside?" Dean's voice asked mockingly and the girl shook her head. "I can't hear you..."

"No, please..." was all she said, when Dean felt anger wash over him and he paused his thrusts, grabbed her by the hair again and pulled her to whisper in her ear.

"Wrong answer."

Dean pulled out of her and slammed back, pumping inside of her with such force and speed that was humanly impossible, and when he released, something happened. Her scream came distorted, his ears rang and he could see blue light dancing under her skin. Grace.

As Michael dumped all his load into her, grace flowed freely into her, and started to burn her skin.

When they left her, she was a mess of blood and bones, and still alive, and Dean didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing. Maybe she would have been better off dead after this, instead of having to live...

Dean couldn't breathe drowning in his own tears that flooded his mind. The moment he said Yes, the archangel scanned through his memories, pinpointing important events and feelings and he knew just how to start breaking Dean Winchester.

Much like Alistair did down in Hell – make Dean hurt, torture and abuse others, make **_him_ **spill their blood, but most importantly, leave them alive and remind him that whenever they think of a word monster – it will be his face they see before their eyes.


	3. Broken

Dean thought he had it bad the first time around. He was wrong.

Michael had him do some disgusting, horrible things to people, even going as far as picking up humans and handing them off to the vampires and werewolves he struck a deal with. Michael still made him rape women and men, tearing their souls apart and leaving them in the pool of their own blood and feces once he had his way with them.

He was destroying everything Dean ever stood for, everything Dean ever fought to protect. But even though he felt himself slip away with each victim, having a piece of his bright soul extinguished because of what _his_ hands, _his_ body, _his_ reproductive organ has done to others, he still fought with everything he had.

Michael was getting fed up with the constant gnat that kept screaming inside his head, but he couldn't just get rid of Dean all together. No. The reason why Dean is his perfect vessel, his true sword had little to do with Dean's body, no matter how much Michael enjoyed every aspect of it.

No, it had more to do with his soul and the power it held, the power that enabled Michael to really reach his full potential. If only the fucker inside would keep his damn mouth shut for at least a fucking moment or two!

Michael even tried a different approach. Anything to keep the mud monkey entertained.

Dean found himself chained, his arms and legs stretched away from his naked body. He was breathing hard, borderline panting as he watched himself slowly approach, that ever present smirk actually making Dean scared. He wouldn't admit it, never in his life, but Michael was already inside his head, and he knew. He knew damn well every thought and every emotion that ran through his mind.

And he knew there were people he cared about deeply but was always afraid he would hurt them, or they would end up hurt just because they were associated with him. It wasn't anything new that he considered himself to be poisonous to those around him.

"Hi Dean..." Said Lisa blinking her eyes black, reminding him of what she had to go through because he dared care for her. A few moments later she was bent over and pushing herself against him as his cock disappeared deep within her. She blinked black and teased, then blinked her normal dark brown and pleaded him to stop.

And it broke him that he couldn't stop, that he couldn't control what was happening. He came and he did it buried deep inside of her and then tried to look her in the eyes and to withstand all her tears because he deserved them, but all he found was _his_ eyes staring back at him, _his_ mouth curled into a disgusting smile and _his_ ass filled with _his_ cock.

Wrong on so many levels.

Then he would have _his_ body behind him, _his_ cock rooting against _his_ ass, while _his_ hot lips trailed wet kisses down _his_ neck and over _his_ shoulder and having _his_ hand jerk off _his own_ hard, red dick. And he couldn't stop it, he couldn't stop him.

He couldn't stop him from having Jo Harvell ride his dick, bouncing on top of him and screaming his name.

He couldn't stop him from having Cassie Robinson impale her tight little ass on his glistering cock, moaning and touching herself.

He couldn't stop him from having Castiel, the angel of the Lord take his swollen dick into his mouth, all the way down to his throat and lick it while bobbing his head along the length.

He couldn't stop from cumming each and every time.

He just... Couldn't... Stop...

And how fucked up is that? How fucked up it is that Dean would rather have the archangel mind rape him in his head then rape someone else out there for real. Even if he knew it was breaking him and that if he doesn't find a way to get the bastard out of his head, he would eventually give in.

And the world would burn.

One thing the archangel was wise enough to avoid is Sam Winchester. Including him in any sexual or torturing fantasy would most probably have the opposite effect, because there is one basic need built in deep inside Dean Winchester's core.

Protect Sammy.

Dean didn't know if the reason Michael left him in Duluth was because Sam was on the other side of the door or was it something else, but he was just so happy to be back to care about the whys. He never told a single soul about what he went through, even if he knew Castiel saw it. But the angel knew him inside and out, knew of his previous torment down in Hell ten years ago so Dean could count on him to never mention it and allow Dean to bury it deep.

Until Kansas.

He stood there facing Michael in that female vessel and then he felt him. Even if his vessel stood right in front of him, he felt him creeping up from behind and penetrate him. Burying himself deep inside and filling him with his grace.

And once again, Dean couldn't stop him.

Michael delivered his big speech of how he left Dean only to give him an illusion that he was free before he claimed him again and it broke Dean all over again. To know his body was never really his, his thoughts were never really his and that Michael could come back and own him again at any given moment, just as he feared.

Just like he always knew might happen. That's why he need to kill him. To end it. To make sure Michael never came back. As ridiculous as that sounded considering nothing ever stays dead long in their world.

In his absence Michael learned some new tricks. The monsters he has given his grace to can now be controlled by him and he could see what they see, taste what they taste, feel what they feel. He could jump vessels, and even have himself divided between them.

Like now.

He could still be possessing Dean, while being in complete control of two vampires that were coming closer and closer. For the first time in a while, Dean was shoved to take the wheel of his own body, only to watch two blood thirsty monsters stalk their way to him. And no matter how much he tried to fight them off, they were either too strong or he was too weak, and they managed to rip his clothes and start licking him up like he was the worlds tastiest lollypop.

They pressed their naked bodies against his, one from the front and the other one from the back, and he fought, and yelled and hit and could feel his will slipping as their wet tongues traced over his neck and shoulders. He could feel their cocks rooting one against his own, the other against his ass.

Then the vampire from the front took a step back and Dean took in the size of his muscles, the size of his torso, the size of his dick, breathing heavily, scared out of his damn mind. He gasped when a hand pushed him forward and he landed on his knees, barely catching himself with his hands and then a hand lifted his chin and suddenly he had a mouth filled with that big, thick dick. He felt tremendous pain in his jaw, as if it was about to pop open as that cock buried itself deeper into his mouth.

And then it started to thrust so roughly and deeply that Dean thought he might choke, but he knew he wasn't that lucky. Tears started to flow freely when he felt a hand on his ass and he knew what was coming, he knew, and he couldn't stop it.

He couldn't stop the scream that tore from his chest, going past that dick in his mouth and he couldn't shut himself from the immense pain that shot through his ass as an equally big cock penetrated him, tearing him and making him bleed instantly.

And if there was ever a moment where Dean Winchester would wish himself dead without an option to come back to life, it would be this, when both monsters started pounding at him, their eyes glowing grace blue, and just as they dumped their loads into him, Michael's voice in his head kept repeating that Dean belongs to him.

Forever.

And how nobody knew there were soft green eyes filled with light watching them from around the corner, and how nobody felt another presence there is beyond any reason, but that's what happened.

A rather tall man, with strawberry pink lips, soft jaw line with a bit of a stubble and light brown hair stood hidden and watch it all unfold, his distrusting green eyes, softer then the autumn leaf roamed the room like they were soaking up every possible detail.

And then he turned and walked away, the strong muscles on his back moving in sync with every step he took, clearly visible under that tight black T shirt. The biceps on his arm flexed as he tensed up when he heard Dean's scream, but he still walked away, knowing he will return with a clear head and a game plan.

Because that is what he was. A strategist. The general of Heaven. The almighty archangel Michael.

And nobody takes what is his.


	4. There can be only one

If he wasn't fucking him out there, he was fucking him in his head. And it was always something new, something different. A different setting, some different vessel, toys and props... You name it, the bastard used it.

But lately, one thing was almost always the same. Whether it was to further humiliate the already broken soul, or to satisfy his own kink, his own need for attentions, they always had eyes on them. Out there and in here.

His hideous monster's, linked to Michael and his vessel by grace, were arranged in circle, their blue eyes trained on the center of the room, on the pool table and on the three people on top of it. Those grace altered blue eyes watched as the former female vessel of Michael's sucked Dean off and twisting his balls while the former African-American vessel began the process of stretching him open for that enormous black cock.

Dean would probably be scared out of his mind, crying NOs and trying to claw his way out of his own dream bar, if he wasn't too far gone, becoming a slave to cardinal pleasure, bound to indulge in the pain as if it was the most gratifying sensation in the world. All those blue eyes roamed over each part of his body, every defined muscle and every patch of sweaty skin, drooling and eagerly awaiting for their master to call upon them to aid him in this sex game.

All those blue eyes stared, still and motionless and amidst them, one blues that had a green shine to them, like the softest leaf buried deep in the jungle filled with vile creatures. All those blue eyes stared, still and motionless, not noticing their fellow monsters have started to fade. All those blues, still and motionless, focused too much on the scene before them, too engrossed to notice themselves fading away.

All those blues, now gone.

The brown eyes of the African-American vessel, formerly known as a human being with the name 'Christian' glanced over at where his female vessel 'Felicia' was, only to see she has disappeared too. Oddly enough, he could still feel all of them, their presence right there, but not quite there. Just out of reach.

Only one of his monsters stood there, watching him and waiting. Why were the others gone? And why did this one remain?

"You are reckless." His monster told him. Since when did they dare to speak up? He will tear the little rat apart.

"Go ahead, try." The monster mocked him. Since when could they hear his thoughts? He launched himself at his monster, only to be thrown away into a wall with nothing more than a flick of its wrist.

"How... _(are you doing this)._.. How dare you?!" He growled rising up to his feet.

"Like I said. Reckless." His monster told him, completely disinterested in him, focused on the man that was currently lying on the pool table, the 8 ball gagging his mouth, silent, still and wary.

"Just because you are currently the most powerful being in this world, doesn't mean a more powerful one can't come along while you weren't watching." His monster spoke, eyes trained on Dean. He wasn't his monster, was he?

No, way too powerful, way to calm. But when he scanned the man before him, all he found was his own grace.

"Haven't figured it out, yet, have we?" The man looked at him, his face not smug, not curious, not nothing. Blank. Stoic. And then, like solving a puzzle of 'what acts like me, talks like me, has my careful expressions and my grace?'

"You're me."

For the first time, a huffed, mocking smile slipped, gone in the next second as the man spoke. "No. I am Michael, the first archangel. You? You are nothing but a bleak copy, discarded for his failures."

Fury flashed in those brown eyes, making them almost glow red with rage as 'Christian' shouted back at him "My failures?! My? I did **everything** He said. I obeyed every order, I ran Heaven and when the time came, I descended upon the Earth to slay the serpent. To **kill** my own brother, just like He said I have to do. And then He had the **audacity** to abandon me."

"Did He really **tell** you to do that? Or was it foretold a long time ago, before He even left? Tell me, what were His last words to you?" Michael, the real Michael said, and when no answer came, when he saw the confusion on 'Christain's' face, he continued "He told you once again to **bow** before humanity, to love **them** more than him, to listen and obey them. Did he?"

'Christian' just glared at him.

"And what did you do? You destroyed His creation more than Lucifer ever could. Or would. And then you have the **audacity** to whine? When you did every single thing wrong? When you enslaved the human kind instead of serving them? Even now, with Dean... You are behaving worse then a low life demon would to its vessel. You do not deserve him."

"Oh, and you do?"

A strange emotion flashed upon Michael's eyes, and he whispered "No. I don't either." He paused and then stepped forward towards Dean. 'Christian' tried to move and to reach him first, but spreading his grace around left him weak, vulnerable and susceptible to Michael's power. His own grace, turned against him. So, naturally, Michael easily held him away as he reached to the mess of the raped soul that was lying on the pool table, and offered him his hand. Should he choose to take it.

Whether it was curiosity of the choice he was given or a simple need for a gentle touch, Dean reached and took the offered hand.

And as Michael gathered his weaken, broken, naked body into his arms he glanced at that copy that was supposed to represent him and huffed.

"We are built to please, you and I. But you didn't listen when Father said to bow before humanity. It was them we needed to please, not Him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone say hello to DarkAngel. If you haven't noticed, on the previous chapter Dark started showing an idea for a Spartacus/Supernatural story, one I wish to encourage. All Dark needs is a beta and a bit more cheers. Help me nag Dark into writing it.  
> Please.


	5. Return

Nobody noticed when a monster, gorgeously built, wearing caki pants with a brown leather belt and absolutely no shirt covering his sweaty chest and stone wall abs, joined the orgies. Their master was currently preoccupied using his vessel's hips to thrust his cock into a man who, driven by the motion thrusted his excuse of a penis into a woman, both screaming as the vampires around them either sucked their blood or were rooting against a body part.

The monster, his eyes soft and pale green, darted everyone around, but his soft, orchid pink lips remained motionless. Slowly, he moved around, highly alert of his surroundings unlike the other drooling, sexually pent up monsters and once he reached his designated target, the only other green eyes in the room, he clasped a hand over his shoulder.

Two seconds later, blinding light engulfed the room. The vampires and bloodbags perished with deafening screams, leaving nothing but ashes as the light poured out of it's perfect vessel and ran away with it's tail between it's legs,beaten, but not yet defeated.

The vessel, once strong, tall and proud now slumped down, weak and pale, not even half of the man he used to be. Two secure, Herculean hands scooped him up, not letting him fall, and held him tight against his broad chest as their owner focused and summoned his wings to carry the broken man out of this wretched place.

* * *

Sam's head was buried in his arms and he was sitting at the table. It has been 5 hours since they came back from hell, 25 hours since they freed Michael and Sam was just... Lost. His hope that he would somehow convince their Michael to save Dean somehow had drifted along with the ashes of his brother Adam. He didn't even manage to say one word to the archangel, much less convince him to help them.

Cas sat opposite, watching him patiently, a bit sad and regretful that it didn't work out, even if he knew it wouldn't. No the way Sam thought it would. And not only is Dean still gone, but they have another threat to worry about. And Sam? He was just lost.

Not knowing what to do, he spent the last 4,5 hours in the same position, fighting the tears and trying to come up with one damn thing that can get him moving again. Anything. Castiel sighed deeply and leaned forward, reaching and setting his hand on Sam's shoulder for comfort. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead of his words, Sam heard the blaring sound of the banker's alarm, and within a second, the room's lighting changed from mild yellow to blood red.

Both jumped out of their seats, both on high alert and somehow, both drawn to the hallway near the dorms. Warily they proceeded that way, rounding the corner, feeling warmer with each passing second. It felt as if someone cranked the heat and cut off the air supply in the bunker, but considering it's size, they shouldn't be feeling the effects so soon.

The more they pushed forward, the hotter it got.

Four feet away from Dean's room, Sam came to a stop, feeling like his feet were being cemented into the ground. A dash of fresh air flew by and Sam sighed in some strange relief, closing his eyes and relishing the feel. Half a second later, strong hands were pulling him back as scorch marks appeared on the floor just before something materialized in front of them.

The smell of burnt skin filled the room while still burning snowflakes of ash flew around the man crouching down on one knee looking down onto the small figure he was holding in his arms. Sam gasped, eyes widening but not at the sight of a very muscular spartan figure, but rather at the sight of his brother's pale, scarred and broken body in it's arms.

Too dumbfounded to react, he just stared, tears flooding his face as the figure stood up and glanced at him uninterested before turning his eyes towards the angel. "Warding." He warned through his teeth, and like a good little solider, Castiel nodded, acknowledging the order and scurried off to execute it.

In his defence, it wasn't just the fact that he felt compelled to do it, but it was also the logical decision. That was Michael, **his** Michael there, and if he somehow managed not only to save Dean and without possessing him, but also to bring him back to **them,** then he was worthy enough not to have the heavy anti-Michael warding weighing him down. Especially seeing as he singed his wings just by teleporting into something he knew could be a death trap of sigils and spells for him.

Castiel's heavy footsteps echoed through the silent hallway, startling Sam back to reality and he glanced at what he presumed was their Michael, catching the look in his eyes and one of disinterest and then focused on his brother who started to come to a bit.

Dreadful fear filled those forest green eyes as they darted around, not a spot of recognition in them, and Dean clung onto Michael as his breathing started to come out in short spurs, his heartbeat quickening.

Michael didn't say a word, only let out one long, hot breath and as it reached Dean, the tiny human in his arms snapped his scared eyes towards him. Their eyes met and as Dean gazed deep into those soft greens, he started to calm down. Slowly and steadily Michael turned around and with nothing but the power of his mind, gently opened the door of Dean's room, the light coming on as soon as he stepped inside. He carried Dean all the way to his bed and proceeded to gently put him down on it.

But Dean wouldn't let go.

As soon as those strong arms placed him down on cold bed and started to pull away, a whine escaped Dean's lips and he held onto Michael for fear life. No matter how much Michael tried to non-verbally sooth him, Dean started to panic all over again. Finally, Michael spoke up, as softly as he could.

"Hush now. Rest... I will be by your side."

But Dean wouldn't let go.

Michael reached and cupped his cheek with his wide, strong hand, and Dean melted to the soft touch while Michael soothed him like a child, slushing him. Slowly, his hand moved up and his two fingers gingerly pressed upon Dean's forehead, sending him into deep slumber. Content that Dean is safe and wasn't in panic mode anymore, but resting as he should be, Micahel covered him with a blanket, stood up and turned to exit the room. Passing a very confused Sam, he gave him nothing but one glance and proceeded to the main library of the bunker.

Sam, torn between attending to his brother and the possible threat of a new enemy, looked frantically between the small body on the bed and the figure disappearing around the corner. Considering that when Dean looked at him, Sam saw no recognition in his eyes, he figured it would be too much of a risk to wake the poor tortured soul now and potentially send him into another frenzy when he should be resting and gathering his strength, Sam reluctantly turned and headed for the library himself.


	6. I will follow Him

Sam found Michael and Castiel sitting opposite one another, Michael calmly tapping his fingers over the table, and Castiel giving him a curious, furious, fearful and hopeful look all wrapped up in one squint. Coming closer, Sam pulled out a chair next to Cas and sat down, feeling nervous along with everything else. Michael glanced at him as he sat down, acknowledging his presence, and then went back to looking at his fingers that kept tapping in a steady beat.

Sam looked over at Cas, not sure what to say and how he should act. Is Michael going to be a threat? What did he want? What were his intentions? He saved Dean like Sam wanted to ask him to do, and not just that but he brought him back to his family. Should Sam thank him?

Michael rolled his eyes and scoffed. Giving Sam an unamused glance he said "Your thoughts are so loud."

Sam straightened up in his seat, his eyes widening and clearly uncertain how he felt about Michael being able to read him like this. Or what could he even do about it.

"T...Thank you." He uttered and gulped when Michael threw him another glance. "For saving him. And bringing him back." To that, Michael sighed, and Castiel knew that expression. Contrary to the other Michael, this one didn't like to talk much, and would remain quiet for long periods of time, always looking tired and annoyed when he had to speak. Just like he does now.

"I did not bring him here because of you. I brought him here because of him." Short and to the point.

"What... What do you mean?" Sam asked a bit taken aback by the sound of the archangel's voice, the power it revealed. With Michael, one truly felt like they were in the presence of the divine. Michael just stared at him for a few minutes as if he was waiting for it to click in Sam's head. When he figured that clearly won't happen, he looked at Castiel, raised a brow and refocused on his tapping.

"I think he means that he brought Dean here, because it will benefit him. He is... Broken. That Michael... – to the mention of the name Michael let out a small growl – He. Who knows what he did to him, and you saw... You saw the state he was in, Michael probably thinks this is the best place for him. Otherwise he wouldn't have brought him here."

Michael hummed.

"Can... Can I talk to you for a second... Over here?" Sam said, frowning at Cas. They were glad Dean was safe and they were thankful, but the way Castiel was acting... It just didn't sit well with Sam. Even now, Castiel glanced at Michael as if he was asking for permission to be excused.

Once they put some distance between them and the table, Sam asked Cas what was going on, and Castiel, the forever clueless angel, said he did know what Sam meant.

"What I mean is this, how you're acting, as... as if Michael... As if you are still... Why are **you** explaining his actions? And when... When he got here, you depowered the wardings. What... What is going on, Cas?"

"Nothing is 'going on'. I am merely following logical conclusions to his words. And as for the wardings, yes, Sam, I did power them down because they were hurting him and burning holes in his wings. He pushed through them just to get Dean here, to safety and I didn't think he should be punished for that."

"I can hear you, you know." Michael commented.

"It isn't just about that. All he had to do was say one word and you jumped to turn our defences off. He didn't feel like explaining, and he just looked at you, and suddenly, you're his spokesman? C'mon Cas. I can see how different you are, I can see how you..."

"How I what, Sam?" Castiel asked with anger, clearly not liking Sam's tone and the sudden mistrust.

"Don't berate him, Samuel, he can't help it."

"What?!" two voices echoed as one as Sam and Cas turned to Michael, baffled by his statement.

"He is an angel, Samuel, it is in his nature to follow. That is just how he was programmed, much like I was programmed to obey my father." Michael said, still looking annoyed that he had to speak.

"No, no. I do not have to follow you, or obey your orders, I rebelled. I chose to help save humanity over Heaven's agenda." Castiel defended.

"Did you, now?" Michael asked with a amused smirk, the first actual expression he made all day.

Castiel didn't say a word, his eyes starting to dart around as if he was trying to remember something, as if he was trying to understand what Michael was talking about.

"What does that mean?!" Sam asked, clearly pissed off, but with lingering fear in his eyes. Michael looked back at him and studied him for a moment before he took a deep breath, released it and turned his whole body towards Castiel, focusing on him.

"Tell me, Castiel, what was the last order I gave you?" He asked and waited patiently for Cas to remember.

"I... I..."

"Come, now. You remember? When I sent you and Uriel to attend to the seal of Samhain?"

Fear flashed upon Castiel's eyes as it fell into place. "To... To... To protect Dean Winchester, keep him safe and... follow his lead." He let out as a mere whisper. He was right, Michael was right. He was a tool, he has always been a tool. Michael was appointed by God to lead Heaven, and that was why Naomi couldn't control him, she wasn't the true leader of Heaven and her orders could never annul Michael's original order.

"I... I didn't rebel because I wanted to, because of Dean. I rebelled because you wanted me to."

"No. Because Dean Winchester wanted you to."

Learning that the best thing you ever did in your whole existence was nothing but a lie can be a bit overwhelming. Still, Michael would say Castiel took it rather well, plopping back on his chair and staring at the distance. Sam, angry at Michael for his bluntness, even if what he was saying was the truth, still couldn't find words to spew at Michael, no matter how much he wanted to. All he could do was sit next to his friend and set a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeeze it every once in a while, waiting for Castiel to snap out of it.

And Michael? He just resumed his finger tapping as if nothing ever happened.

They sat in a strangely comfortable silence for over an hour when suddenly Michael's taps started to get faster and faster. Sam looked at his fingers and then up at him, watching him raise his head and moving his eyes in the direction of Dean's room.

The tapping was Dean's heartbeat.

"He's having a nighmare."


	7. For Dean

Michael was focused on the task ahead when he felt something on his chest that made him pause and look down. Somehow, Sam wound up in front of him, holding his hand up to his chest to stop him. As if he really could.

“Look.” Sam started, confident and not showing an ounce of fear of being in the presence of an archangel. “I appreciate you bringing him back, but I think we got it from here.” With a deep breath, Sam stood tall and looked back at Michael with a mix of spite and hatred in his eyes, daring him to a conformation.

Michael watched him with a completely blank expression even if he was slightly amused by the young hunter’s behaviour. He could hear Castiel in the back trying to protest, trying to explain to Sam, but the kid would have none of it. He even stooped so low as to call Castiel a traitor.

Michael could have just shoved him away. He could just send him flying across the hall, especially after seeing that hurt look on the angel’s face. He could just walk past him and Sam wouldn’t be able to do a single thing to stop him. But instead, Michael glanced down upon the hand on his chest and brought his gaze back on Sam, his face completely emotionless and stoic. “As you wish.” was all he responded before disappearing with a rustle of wings.

Sam blinked bewildered into the empty space before him, not having expected that, but soon his thoughts turned back to Dean and he hurried down the corridor to get to his room. Castiel, no matter how hurt he was by Sam’s previous statement, hurried after him, concerned about Dean.

It wasn’t the fact that Michael saved Dean and that Sam should be more grateful. It wasn’t the fact that Michael didn’t really have anywhere to go aside from the run down Heaven. It was the fact that Dean was so weak and broken, Castiel feared he might remain like that for the rest of his life. The image of a drooling Donnie Finnerman, Raphael’s first vessel came to mind, and if Dean was a mess like that, they are going to need all the help they could get.

Without thinking, Sam busted into the room, instantly waking a shaking crying Dean from his nightmare, making him jump and scream, then scrambling backwards to curl into the smallest ball possible, right between the headboard of his bed and the wall the bed was set against. His terrified green eyes kept glancing from Sam to Cas, his silent sobs filled the room as his entire, still naked body trembled.

“Dean.” Sam said as he hurried towards him, only to have Dean’s eyes go wide, his sobs to go louder and for him to try and curl into himself more than he already did.

“Sam, I don’t think...” Cas tried, but Sam ignored him.

“Dean. Dean. It’s me. It’s Sam.” Sam spoke, reaching towards him, making Dean’s breaths quicken, filled with fear. The moment Sam’s hand touched his arm, it was like someone electrocuted him, and Dean screamed, trying to get away. Sam, the idiot that he was, reached and grabbed him, pulled him into a hug and tried to shush him and tell him it will be ok and that he is here for him, but Dean kept crying and screaming like he was being stabbed repeatedly, trashing in his arms, trying to get away.

 _Michael, please. Cease this and come help him. Please._ Cas prayed, unable to withstand the sight of a man who was once so strong and brave and now was only an empty shell. Castiel’s prayers went unanswered.

Dean broke away from Sam and tried to run, but with the angel standing at the door, he had nowhere to go, and Sam, the moron, grabbed him again to try and calm him with his words, with his hug and maybe his scent, he didn’t know anymore. All he knew was that his vision was getting blurry from all the tears that filled his eyes, not only didn’t he know how to help his brother, but felt he was hurting him even more.

He just got him back and now his own stupidity is going to drive away whatever little of Dean there is left. Finally, he let him go and watched as Dean scrambled to the nearest corner, whining like a hurt animal, the sound so gut wrenching, it made Sam’s own breathing hitch and he let out a sob blaming himself for it all. For Dean saying Yes to that bastard in the first place, for not getting to him sooner, for letting him slip through his fingers in Kansas again.

“Alright. Alright! You win! You fucking win.” Sam shouted towards the ceiling, tears drenching his face. ‘You win, you son of a bitch. Just. Come back. Come back and help him.”

He could have waited. He could have waited for a ‘please.’ He could have had him down on his knees, begging for it. But Sam got the point, and Michael didn’t care enough to make him do all that. Dean was the priority. Dean will always be a priority.

A ruffle of feathers was heard, but strangely enough, Michael didn’t appear in the room, choosing to enter it thought the door instead, his eyes only scanning Sam and Cas before falling on Dean. It was as if his mere presence there was enough to calm Dean’s sobs by a bit and Castiel frowned, trying to understand why. Dean had no power of recognition, not currently, so he couldn’t identify Michael as the one who saved him. So what soothed him?

The closer Michael got to Dean, the more he began to crouch, inching his way towards the hurt human. Stopping just out of hand’s reach, Michael paused and locked his eyes with Dean, making his breathing calm even more, making him focus on Michael and nothing else. He set his open hand on the ground before Dean, palm up and waited. Dean’s fearful eyes looked between the hand and Michael, and after good ten minutes, his shaky hand reached slowly and touched Michael’s, immediately pulling back.

Understanding that nothing happened, Dean’s hand reached out to touch Michael’s again, his scared eyes focused on it, as he breathed in and out. Warily, Dean lifted his gaze towards Michael, and moving microscopically slow, he finally uncurled and inched towards the archangel.

Sam watched baffled as to how Michael was able to communicate with Dean on some primal level, and it hurt, it hurt like hell that he couldn’t, but Michael was right with what he said before. This wasn’t about Sam or his guilt. This was about Dean. And if Dean feels safe in Michael’s arms, then... Sam is just going to have to deal with it.

Slowly, Michael helped Dean get on his wobbly feet, and picking up a blanket from the bed, he covered his bare body, tucking him in and letting Dean lean on his strong chest, letting him inhale his scent and watched him calm down.

“Castiel. Would you mind getting Dean some nourishments?” was the first thing Michael said, and it was like a knife to Sam’s chest. He didn’t mock Sam, he didn’t make fun of them needing him, he wasn’t even pissed they worked Dean into a frenzy. He really truly only cared about Dean.

“Of course.” Castiel responded and left the room in a hurry.

“Samuel. Your brother needs a thorough cleaning. Please, direct me to the nearest bath.”

Sam’s eyes snapped to look at Michael’s, as his face palled and drew a shocked expression. “You’re... You’re not going to... Can’t you just zap him clean?”

Michael, completely calm and expressionless, and how the fuck did he manage to remain so stoic, none knew, replied: “Do you really think it is wise for me to snap my fingers in your brother’s presence?”

“I could use my grace to fix all of this. I could snap up the food, I can snap him clean, I could even snap some clothes on him. I could force my way into his mind and rebuild him, just like that poor excuse of an archangel did. But I am not going to do that to him. I’m not. So you could either accept that all I do is in his best interest, or I could just leave and let you try and pick up the pieces and glue them back together in hopes you will do it correctly and without misplacing a part of him. Your choice.”

Sam stared at him for quite a while, his face screwed up in emotional pain, his mouth ajar, his cheeks covered in tears. And then, he looked down on his brother’s tiny form as Dean practically glued himself to Michael, his face buried in the crook of Michael’s neck, his eyes closed, content and relaxed and he let out a heavy sigh. Michael was right. It wasn’t about Sam, it was about Dean. He just has to get it through his hair and his thick scull. For Dean.

“It’s this way.”


	8. More than meets the eye

Michael was scared shitless. Not because of Dean, even though he did fear there could be a chance he could damaged him even more. It certainly wasn't because of what Dean's brother might think or do, and it most definitely wasn't because of that mleek copy of his. No, it was because of him.

From the first moment Michael laid his eyes on Dean, he knew. He knew Dean was something more than just his perfect vessel. His soul vibrated on the same frequency as Michael's grace and the archangel almost caved and forfeited all his plans when Dean asked him to. He almost disobeyed his father to follow Dean instead. But even thought Father said to love humanity more than Him and to bow before them, He did also set in motion the apocalypse Himself and Michael was torn.

And even though the refusal hurt like nothing before, Michael was also glad Dean chose to say No. That way he had an excuse to find another vessel, which he easily did in Adam. That idiot Zachariah almost ruined it by forcing Dean's hand with Adam, but it in end... It worked out. And even though he ended up in that mindless horrible place, he was glad that at least, Dean was ok somewhere out there.

But he wasn't, was he? He went through so much, and while there were others that helped him carry the weight, it all came down to him anyway. It always did. And Michael couldn't help but blame himself for it all. For Purgatory, for the mark of Cain, for Amara, even for letting Lucifer slip out. All of these things made deep cuts in the righteous man's souls, taking up bits and pieces to themselves. If Michael wasn't such an idiot and tried his damnest to stay away, none of it would have happened.

He should have listen to his own words when he told Dean he couldn't fight his destiny.

And now? Now Michael has to make him whole again, make his soul whole again. He is the only one that can.

He led them towards the room Sam directed them to, before reluctantly staying behind, and Dean followed without hesitation. Still half-cradling Dean in one arm, he reached and opened the tap on the bathtub, glancing at the bottle with bubbles on it. Knowing that it would help clean the smell of all those layers of urine, faeces, cum, saliva, dirt and other monster related fluids that lingered on Dean's body, he poured a gracious amount of it into the water and watched the level slowly rise.

He felt a small jolt when Dean stirred in his arms, dragging the tip of his nose against his skin and inhaling him deeply. He could feel more tendrils of his grace trying to reach him and wrap itself around him like a blanket, but he held them back, worried it would be too much for Dean to handle yet. So, instead he wrapped his strong arms around his little form and held him tight, listening to Dean sigh in content.

That sound alone warmed his heart like nothing ever before, and then the guilt rose back up. It was his fault that Dean was like this and he didn't deserve to feel good about making Dean feel good. But he couldn't help it, his grace resonated with Dean's soul and he knew, he just knew he would have to tangle them together eventually if he could ever hope to restore him to his previous glory.

And he just knew he wouldn't be able to peel Dean of himself. Not that he hasn't tried. Gently of course. But when that didn't work, nor did trying to lead him into the bath, Michael sighed and did the only thing he could.

With his clothes still on, he stepped into the tub and sat moving his tush as far as he could and Dean followed, sitting between his legs, fitting perfectly like he was always meant to be there. With another sigh of content, he laid back on his firm, wide chest and leaned his head on Michael's shoulder, half facing him.

Damn it, why did Dean had to feel so good so flush against his body?

Michael let him lay there, allowing his body to soak up, and getting used to the feel of Dean being so close. He knew in the following months they will be inseparable, if Michael truly wished to heal Dean completely, so he let this body get accustomed to the shape of Dean's, to the little extra weight it would have to support and to the movements that weren't his own.

After about twenty minutes or so, Michael picked up a sponge and nudged Dean forward a bit, then taking his time in washing his back as he felt Dean almost hum to the motions. He could feel him relax, so after he was done with his back, Dean leaned back on his chest and allowed him to wash his front.

He started slowly, brushing the sponge over his arms and across his chest, then moving over to his belly. Going lower, he passed the hips and moved to the thighs and down to his knees. He could feel Dean's breathing deepen, as if he has fallen asleep, and found it strange that Dean has actually fallen into a daze of sorts, driven by Michael's soft touch. So, even after he was done, Michael kept running the sponge over Dean's body, letting him relish in the feel.

Michael noticed, he would have been a fool not to, that Dean's penis has erected and that Dean would shiver each time Michael's hand came anywhere near his groin. Thinking it was too soon to make that kind of a contact, Michael avoided going there and after a few more shoulder rubs, he set the sponge aside and nudged Dean slightly to tell him they were done.

There was a deep sound in Dean's chest, almost as if he growled at Michael.

He took the angels hand in his and guided back into the water, setting it on his hip, and relaxed back onto Michael's chest. He knew he didn't have a choice, not when it came to Dean. He knew he couldn't deny him anything, he never could. So slowly, his hand travelled down his thigh, caressing and only squeezing the muscle enough to make it pleasant.

His fingers moved over, slowly and tenderly, coming up to Dean's groin, brushing over the small patches of skin between the leg and Dean's erection, making Dean's breaths deepen. He gently brushed over his balls, then cupped them, feeling Dean's slight shiver of excitement, probably over what is to come.

Michael first set the tips of his fingers in the thin skin of Dean's cock and moved them along the length, then slowly began to curl them around, taking the whole of Dean into his hand. The very first slow stroke had Dean letting out a very small, nearly silent whine and arching his back towards Michael's hand.

Michael listened to Dean's low, heavy breathing as he set out a slow tender pace, every third time he got to the head, he would brush a finger over it, making Dean shiver slightly and making his breath hitch for a moment. He could feel the pulse of his soul as it sang to him, depicting the lovely tune of pleasure, and Michael felt his own cock start to fill out. Just listening to Dean's soul humming to the soft touch it was so hungry for was enough to stir the grace inside if him, but he couldn't, he wouldn't let it reach out. Not yet.

Maintaining the slow, steady motions of his hand, nearly caressing, Michael hummed to the tune of Dean's soul, letting it consume him, especially seeing how much Dean enjoyed it. His head fell back to Michael's shoulder, and then his head lolled as his breathing grew deeper and deeper. Lost in the feel of Dean, Michael's own head fell forward, drawn by Dean, his grace wishing to be as close as possible. His lips fell on Dean's shoulder and, eliciting very small, barely auditable whimpers of arousal from Dean, Michael's lips travelled up his neck all the way to his ear and all it took was one hot breath of Michael's to make Dean give out one quiet moan, spilling his essence all over the water.

Michael closed his eyes heavily instantly overwhelmed with guilt. He shouldn't have done this, it was... It was too soon. But then he felt something and his eyes snapped open to see Dean setting a small peck on his cheek, feelings of peace and tranquility oozing out of him in waves and Michael breathed a sigh of relief. Dean wanted this. Dean needed this. And whatever Dean needs, Dean gets.

Michael was scared shitless.

He was scared he won't ever be strong enough or smart enough to bring Dean back to his former glory, to see that soul shine so bright and strong.

He would never delude himself that it would shine for him, warm up the cold grace and light up his way. But being allowed to catch a glimpse of it is enough, as long as it is happy, Michael will be alright too.


	9. What I want and what he needs

Sam froze seeing a completely wet, still-in-his-clothes Michael exiting the bathroom and leading Dean towards his room. Luckily Dean had a towel around his waist, but Sam knew it was Michael who wrapped it up there. The whole thing made him sick to his stomach. He wished he could be the one to take care of his brother and he wished the archangel wasn't there at all.

But he is the one that invited Michael to this party, he is the one that sought out Michael's help and Michael is the one that saved Dean and brought him back. Michael is the only one Dean reacts well too, and at the end of the day, it comes down to what Dean needs. And Dean needs, Dean wants Michael. Why, Sam had a hard time understanding, cause it couldn't just be the fact that he saved him. There had to be a deeper thing.

Sam could only hope he isn't being played by this Michael and that this was all about helping Dean and nothing more. He would never forgive himself if he broke them apart and it hurt Dean, but he would never forgive himself if it ended up that Michael played him like a fiddle and Dean got hurt in the end anyway.

Fuck!

As if Dean heard his inner thought, he flinched when he saw him standing in the hallway and backed up to curl in Michael's arms. The archangel held him close and protectively, giving Sam one sorrowful glance. Sam watched him whisper something to Dean, hopefully some reassurances that Sam isn't a threat and then the archangel turned towards Sam again.

"My apologies, Samuel. Do you perhaps have any clothing items I can borrow? This vessel is too large for Dean's clothes and I wouldn't want to rip them. It will be just until these dry." Sam took a deep breath and nodded, then proceeded to his room to get the clothes. He heard Michael say "Thank you."

Funny, he doesn't remember the archangel being polite back when they were in the cage. Come to think of it, he doesn't remember him doing anything, just standing to the side and not even sparing him a glance while Lucifer... No, he won't reminisce about that. Cas told them those memories weren't even real, that they were just cage provided illusions and nothing more.

Still, he can't help but think that Michael could have helped him back then. Unless he was drowning in his own torturous illusions.

Gently tapping on Dean's door that was already ajar, he leaned in and pushed them open slowly, as not to alarm Dean much. He just caught a glimpse of Michael pulling up Dean's briefs over his tush, his lingering touch caressing the soft muscle and Sam didn't know what was worse. The fact that Michael touched him like that, or that Dean seemed to enjoy it, closing his eyes and almost like humming, while his lips twerking up just a tiny bit.

But then Michael, without even looking back, motioned for Sam to come closer. So he knew Sam was there and... Dean's eyes slowly opened and he jumped, squealing and trying to back away, but Michael held his wrist tight. Silently sobbing, Dean's eyes were trained on Sam, filled with fear and not a drop of recognition. Sam felt his chest tighten to it, his lungs burning like he couldn't get enough air in them. He just stood there, clothes in hand, tears prickling in his eyes. And then Michael moved, like he waited for everyone to still their own movements before he did the most amazing thing.

Slowly, he moved his hand and extended it to Sam. Figuring what he wanted, Sam extended the clothes and Michael took them and held them close to his chest without actually making contact with his wet shirt. Dean's eyes flickered from Sam to Michael and to the dry clothes, and he seemed to visibly calm, looking back at Sam with a little less fear in those bright green eyes.

"May we speak in private, Samuel?" Michael whispered and Sam, too consumed with everything that was happening only nodded, but remained stuck in his spot. And then he heard it, the voice in his head.

_Michael: "I do not mean to intrude, Samuel, but please understand it is easier to speak like this for now. I do not wish to alarm Dean further than necessary."_

_Sam: "I... I understand. Is he... How..."_

_Michael: "He is doing good, all things considering. You must understand, some very... Disturbing things were done to him and his mind needs time to... Rebuild. You giving me clothing was a good start for you and him. Soon, I will attempt more, but for now... I must ask you to step back and let Castiel come in with the nourishments he brought."_

Sam wanted to stay, he wanted to help, he wanted his brother back. But Sam just nodded and bowed his head low before exiting. As Michael said, Cas was waiting by the door with a bag from a Mexican restaurant and Sam paused, wanting to ask why would Cas go there out of all the places that were closer. However, Cas brushed past him, entered Dean's room and shut the door before Sam managed to turn towards him properly.

Sam walked back into the library, sad and tired, and just as he sat at the table, Cas emerged, carrying the same bag, only seemingly lighter. He placed it before Sam and nodded at it, telling Sam it was for him and then sat down to keep him company.

"Tomato-rice soup?" Sam questioned opening up the container.

"Yes, Michael thought it would be good for Dean to have something familiar, but he wasn't sure if he could make him chew on a burger. Dean hasn't had anything to eat since he was retaken as a vessel and he has to start slow now, teach his stomach how to work again, hence the soup." Castiel explained, reminding Sam of the time he vacated Jimmy and the man stuffed his face with burgers and then threw them all up.

There was a small part of Sam that wondered if he could trust Cas anymore. Considering how Michael says jump and Cas dives right in, knowing exactly how high, Sam wondered if the angel before him is still their friend Cas, or Castiel the angel of the Lord. But then again, if Sam asked him to fetch some soup for a hurt Dean, the angel would react in the exact same way. So was this really about Michael or was he acting this way because of Dean?

A question came to mind and without even thinking it through, Sam spoke it out loud. "How come Dean seems more relaxed around you then he does with me?"

Castiel sighed heavily and bowed his head for a moment. When he looked back up at Sam, there was evident uncertainty and fear mixed in that tired expression he made, never looking more like Cas the friendly angel than at that moment. "I am not sure, Sam. But I intend to find out more tonight, when Dean is asleep and Michael is free to elaborate on some things further."

Back in Dean's room, after Castiel left, Michael took the soup and set it up at Dean's desk. He had him sit and then fed him a few spoons. Dean didn't understand what Michael wanted with the spoon and the strange red liquid in it, but trusted him endlessly and opened wide. Once the soup toiched his tongue and had that familiar taste spread all over his mouth, it felt so good, Dean picked spoon and started eating all on his own.

Michael took the opportunity to take off the wet clothes and hang them on a few hangers before turning to the clothes Sam gave him. When he turned, there was Dean, still sitting in the chair, but facing him, his mouth slightly open, his pupils dilated and his breaths short and rough, staring at Michael's naked body.

Slowly and carefully, eyes trained on Dean, Michael reached and took the dry clothes, and put them on, his movements cautious, fully aware of the predator look in Dean's eyes. Even when he put on the last item, and covered almost all of his body, the atmosphere still felt heavy until Dean turned and like nothing happened, picked up his spoon and finished his meal.

Once done, Michael lead him towards the bed and tried to put him down, but Dean wouldn't let go of Michael. The archangel sighed deeply, knowing Dean wouldn't want to part with him, and knowing he wouldn't be able to say no. Dean needed him, needed his warmth and his safe embrace.

So Michael stepped into the bed with his knee and Dean rapidly moved to make room for him, scooting all the way to the wall. Michael laid beside him and Dean reached and took his hand, wrapping it around himself and turning to face the wall. He tugged and tugged until Michael caved in and spooned him and Dean nested his ass against Michael's groin, hugging his arm and sighed in content.

Michael let out a heavy breath and pulled up a blanket, covered Dean and kept him safe, warm and cozy throughout the night.


	10. Destiny calls

The boards shrieked under his footsteps as Castiel stepped into the small dock. Before him stood alone one camp chair and a fishing rod hooked up to the dock. Beyond, the river floated quietly, peacefully. Castiel took a deep breath, ravishing in the familiarity of his surroundings. He hasn't been able to reach this place in quite a while, and despite the fact that Dean wasn't here, it still felt soothing.

"Since when do you dream, Castiel?" A voice echoed from beside the angel, but it didn't make him flinch. Instead Castiel kept staring at the passing river, focused on it as if he was counting each and every flowing molecule.

"This isn't my dream." He simply replied.

"No, you just took someone else's." Michael replied walking closer, running his hand over the small camp chair. "Since when do you sleep, Castiel?" Michael added sounding curious.

"Ever since we fell." The angel replied and Michael grimaced, feeling a twinge of pain in his chest.

"I am sorry." The archangel said and it finally made Castiel turn to him, frowning.

"Why are you sorry? It wasn't your fault." _It was mine._ Castiel's mind supplied. Michael sighed, and turned to look at the river, trying to take in its calming effect. He felt it was his fault, all of it. The Falling of the Angels, the destruction and deterioration of Heaven, even the presence of his counterpart in this world. If only he had followed his destiny and not try and stay away, none of those thing would have happened.

When Michael didn't reply, but chose to gaze at the river ahead, Castiel turned and joined him. Neither knew how long they have been standing there in silence, could have been minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. Dreams are tricky like that.

"He is doing a bit better. He just needs time." Michael said.

"And you. He needs you." Castiel replied, and oddly, it didn't sound like a question, thought Michael was going to try and explain it anyway.

"He needs the grace his soul tried to bind itself to. The soul recognizes it and is trying to reach out and reconnect."

"So let it." Castiel said turning towards Michael.

"It isn't that simple. The grace it was connected to before is similar, almost compatible, but not quite. Like trying to force two pieces of a puzzle that don't quite fit, crooking them both. Now if you find the correct piece, and try to put it together with the crooked one... It might break completely. And we don't want that." Michael explained.

"But then... How are you even getting through to him?"

"By using some of the basics of Stockholm syndrome against his psyche, twisting my grace to resemble... His." Michael replied, spitting out the last word as it was the most disgusting set of molecules he has ever tasted. Of course he was referring to his counterpart.

"He has shared his grace with... That filth of the Earth, altering them. When Dean looks at me, he sees him. And when he looks at you, he sees one of the monsters that serve him." The fact that Castiel had divine grace in his system, how little that may be, and those grace-like blue eyes, all that added to the fact that he listened to Michael and obeyed had Dean seeing him as a servant.

Castiel furrowed his brows at Michael. He didn't understand why Michael was tiptoeing that much around Dean, but whenever he looked at Dean, he couldn't understand his behaviour either. And then Michael's words echoed in his mind – Stockholm Syndrome. That twisted excuse of an archangel must have tortured and abused Dean's mind to the point that all Dean trusted, all Dean knew was one constant – his grace. And it became his safety net, the one thing he could rely on to be there. To torture him more.

Castiel didn't know just how close Dean was to breaking and succumbing to the mindlessness of cardinal pleasures. And he wasn't out of the woods yet.

The angel remained silent for a while, processing what it all meant, understanding they needed to tread lightly, knowing he chose wisely to follow Michael's lead on this, because he seemed to know the exact extend of the damage. Still, some things just didn't add up, and not for the first time, Castiel had a feeling like he wasn't seeing the whole picture.

"There is more. There is something you're not telling me." He stated and couldn't help the feeling he should have said those words over a decade ago, when he first got his orders to rescue the righteous man from the clutches of Hell.

"Questioning your superiors?" Michael raised a brow, then smiled. "Good for you." There was something in his eyes, a spark of pride or a hint of admiration that leveled the playing field and made Castiel think he was seen as an equal. A deep sigh disturbed that pleasure and Michael bowed his head for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"You are correct, there is more. Dean... Dean isn't just my true sword, my perfect vessel." Michael paused, staying quite for too long, and giving the statements before, Castiel had enough courage to confront and demand to know the truth.

"What is he? What is Dean!?" Castiel asked in a stern voice, but the moment he heard a long forgotten word in his own language, his eyes went wide with shock and disbelief.

"Ur-gon-drux-veh." Michael whispered, barely able to maintain eye contact with Castiel. "My angelic soulmate."

"That's... That's not possible, that is but a myth, a legend. Nobody... Nobody ever found their... Nobody ever..."

"On the risk of sounding too narcissistic, maybe nobody else has one." Michael replied and then continued after yet another sigh. "I knew from the moment I first saw him, I knew he was that little piece I was missing, that little piece of me that... I just knew it was him." Michael huffed a annoyed laugh and looked away, embarrassed.

"I knew before he was even born. Back in 1978, you remember? I remember it like it happened just now. I was... I was so filled with rage and I killed... I killed Anna because she threatened his existence. I killed my sister over him. I... I was so close to calling the whole thing off, but... Something wouldn't let me. Father wouldn't let me..."

"Is that... Is that why he left you in the cage? Because you tried to disobey? Because of the outcome?" Castiel asked a bit weary. Michael actually laughed a little at that.

"No. Father didn't lock me in the cage and neither did Dean." When Michael lifted his gaze, he was met with confusion in those soft young eyes, because yes, no matter how billions of years old Castiel was, he was still very much younger then Michael.

"The cage, Castiel, was built to hold Lucifer and him alone. Did you really think you could enter it and leave with Sam's body, a mere seraph, but that I couldn't?" Michael asked softly, more amused then anything. Aside from the pinch of guilt he saw in his brother's eyes, there was a moment, a spark of realisation and Castiel actually gasped like a housewife finding a stain on her carpet.

"You... You... You stayed there on purpose. You..."

"Yes, Castiel. I did. Father couldn't reach me there, and destiny couldn't either. Or so I thought. You know, back in 1978, I told Dean he couldn't fight his destiny, that he was always going to say yes. And because I tried to fight mine, he ended up saying yes to the wrong me." Michael said with a tremendous amount of regret the had Castiel actually feeling sorry for him.

Michael gasped and blinked in confusion when Castiel pulled in into a hug, an action so human and trivial he had no idea how comforting it could feel. "You are here from him now. Now that it matters the most." Castiel told him and Michael relaxed in his embrace, thankful he had at least someone by his side. On his side. Someone that, however little that may be, still cared about him. He breathed in and out and Castiel slowly pulled away, adding a pat on a back and a reassuring smile.

"I am truly glad you decided to share this with me, Michael."

"I am glad you were willing to listen. Brother."

They both smiled at one another and taking deep, relaxing breaths turned to watch the river. Michael glanced around, taking in the tranquility of the simple nature. But something was missing. He made eye contact with the angel before Castiel's gaze followed Michael's to the empty camp chair.

"I really wish I could take him out for a simple walk, but it is still too dangerous. Thank you, brother, for providing me with an opportunity to do it in a way." Michael said and suddenly, Dean began to materialize in that little chair. His eyes filled with wonder glanced at Castiel, who smiled at him and then beamed up at Michael, happy and filled with delight.

Up ahead in the river a fish jumped out of the water drawing Dean's attention and he spent the rest of his sleep wallowing the beauty of the scene, finding a few moments of utter peace his mind yearned for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to vrskaandrea - Andrea for letting me use her motive of 'Ur-Gon-Drux-Veh' from her story True Colors, or rather it's sequel Curious Case of Castiel.


	11. Words spoken

Three days. For three days Michael was glued to Dean, either snuggled next to him on the bed as Dean slept or rested, or having him in his lap while he ate. Or while they pretended to watch TV, because at this point all Dean could see and understand were flashing images, he certainly couldn't follow the plot. Or while they were taking a bath, because shower was out of the option, Dean clung onto Michael so much that the archangel feared Dean might slip and hurt himself.

For three whole days Michael had Dean in his lap, Dean's ass pressed against his erection and Michael was pretty sure this was not normal. If he was a regular human being, having a three day long erection would most definitely kill him. Lucky he was an archangel who could sustain it. He should be able to control his body more than this, but he is already trying damn hard not to move things along with Dean, barely holding on to that little shred of control to be able to... de-power his erection.

Castiel ignored it, and Michael was thankful for that, but he could see how it made Sam uncomfortable and he just wished he could explain it to him, but knew that Sam wouldn't understand. Or wouldn't believe him. Not after what happened down at the cage. No matter how he tried to explain it, the fact remained - Michael could have gotten Sam's soul out, but he didn't. Despite what Sam remembered, Michael didn't and couldn't touch him, couldn't really interact with a soul on that level, not in the cage anyway. He knew he would have to sit with Sam and explain it to him, or if Sam let him, show him what really happened down there and not what the cage made him see. But Dean is a priority now. Dean is always a priority.

It was their fourth night that Michael, as per Dean's request, spooned him, grunting as Dean snuggled his ass back into Michael's groin and sighed in content. Michael wished he could relax, but the fact that Dean was comfortable was all that mattered. Still the more time passed and the more Dean moved in his sleep, the harder it became for the archangel. It started as a tingling sensation on the first day, and by the end of the second one, each movement of Dean's against him sent little shockwaves thought out his body. End of the third day is when the pain started to crawl up and it was slowly becoming unbearable.

Michael knew all about human interactions and intercourses and how their whole chemistry worked, but with Dean, his actual angel mate by his side, all bets were off. It wasn't just his grace that was reacting to the closeness of Dean's soul, but also the vessel too, seeing as it was an extension of his grace, its... Outter shell.

The more Dean unconsciously moved against Michael the more the archangel grunted, the pain spreading from his erection to the pit of his stomach and his lower back. Dean hummed and made one jolted movement, and Michael cried out as the pain spread all over his body. His breathing turned heavy and he screwed his eyes shut, trying to calm his mind and fight through the pain.

Suddenly, without any warning, Dean turned, his eyes closed as if he was still asleep and cuddled into Michael's chest. He made a sound, something that sounded like 'mine', or maybe he was trying to say the archangel's name, but Michael couldn't focus enough to understand him. "Mye..." Dean's head was pressed against his chest and Michael supposed he was listening to his heartbeat to drew some calm, some peace from it, but Michael's heart was racing and there is no way it could be soothing for Dean.

Unfazed by it, Dean snuggled even closer, then raised his head making his nose brush against Michael's collarbone, his hot breath spread over his skin making Michael feel like he was on fire. Dean whispered something, paused and then pressed his soft lips in the crook of Michael's neck. The archangel gasped at the feeling of Dean's gentle kiss and let out a silent cry as it caused his release, his throbbing cock exploding in his pants, his entire body wrecked with the electricity of his orgasm. He could feel Dean's soul reaching and caressing his grace, twirling itself around it, wishing to connect, and for the first time Michael was too weak to hold it back.

Dean hummed and smiled, looking so calm and content, whispering those two words once more before falling fast asleep. "Mye elske..."

It was two hours later that Michael was sure that Dean was sound asleep and wouldn't wake if he tried to untangle himself from Dean's embrace. Michael still thought it wouldn't be good for Dean to use his powers in his presence, even if he was asleep, because Dean could feel the surge of grace and it might scare him. And since Michael still had his pants filled with his own load, he needed to step out of the room to clean himself.

Just his luck that he had to run into Sam. The hunter took one look at him, his stained pants and scrunched his nose before turning away and leaving the hallway. Michael sighed heavily, guilt he shouldn't really be feeling draining some of his energy. Castiel had explained it to Sam, as close as he could considering this was a bit more than his human brain could process, and Sam knew now that Michael would never hurt Dean. But he obviously did not like how things were evolving between them, and there was nothing Michael could do about it.

With one wave of his hand, he was once again clean and cum free, so he proceeded towards the war room, in the direction Sam went. He found him there, just standing, shoulders tense and clearly angry. Castiel was seated at the table, confusingly watching Sam. Thinking it would be best to avoid the issue the hunter had with him, Michael opted for a different subject.

"Dean spoke." Sam's eyes snapped back to gawk at him, shocked but with a glimpse of hope that grew the more he stared at him.

"Wha... What did he say?"

"Mye elske." Michael replied. Sam frowned and kept a firm gaze upon him, waiting for an explanation. But when none came, he rolled his eyes, threw his hands in the air and brought them down on his thighs fast making a slapping sound.

"Newsflash, I don't speak Enochian. Much. What does it mean?!"

It was Castiel who replied, his brows furrowed. "It isn't Enochian, it is Norwegian and it means 'much love.' But I don't understand why would Dean speak Norwegian." They didn't have to make two guesses to know how would he even know the language, being a vessel of an archangel made him pick up a few things and with his brain haywired, nobody could really know the answer to Castiel's question.

"I believe that the mere fact that he spoke is what is most important. It shows a lot of progress on his behalf and maybe soon we might even be able to communicate with him on a more normal scale." Michael added.

"Yeah, in Norwegian. Great, that's great." Sam said, clearly sarcastic, upset that he would be once again left out, considering the others knew almost all human languages. "And how convenient, he should tell you, YOU, those words, those exact words." Voicing out his displeasure, Sam's tone went higher, the anger and jealousy seeping out of him. He turned his firm gaze upon the archangel as if it had any chance to affect such a powerful being, but frowned seeing that he didn't have Michael's attention.

In fact, Michael was staring somewhere beyond him and when Sam turned, there was Dean, shrunken and shaking, his eyes darting at everyone in the room, fearful and confused.

_Michael:"Samuel. Tell him he is sikker. Do it now."_

Michael's voice echoed inside Sam's head making him frown. In normal circumstances he would tell the archangel to shove it, considering how pissed off he was. But Dean was there, scared and he didn't need to do anything to put a bigger wedge between them. And even though he didn't trust Michael completely, not yet, he still knew the archangel wouldn't do anything to harm Dean.

"Dean... It's ok, Dean... You're... You're... Sikker." He barely managed, the word sounding so wrong, telling his brother he is sick. He knew that was probably not what it meant, but he still hated how it made him feel all... Disgusted.

"Ss... Sikker?" Dean whispered back, looking just a tad less alarmed and scared.

_Michael: "Take my hand, Samuel. He needs to see you reach out and take my hand."_

Sam silently gritted his teeth, but did as Michael told him, reached and took his hand. Castiel stood up and approached, so Sam took his hand too. As Dean eyed him warily, he felt a need to say something, anything that Dean would understand, so he repeated the word Michael told him. "Sikker."

"Familie." Castiel said, drawing Dean's attention, and dispersing some of his fear away. Dean looked back at Michael, than at the hand Sam was holding, before meeting the archangel's eyes once more. Michael nodded and slowly reached out with his free hand.

"Sikker. Safe." Michael said and watched as Dean slowly inched towards them. Castiel stepped back, and Sam noticed so he thought he should do the same, but Michael kept his firm grip on Sam's hand, making him stay put.

"Ss... Sikker?" Dean repeated and Michael nodded. It seemed as though Dean still didn't trust those words, keeping an eye on Sam as he tried to angle his approach at Michael, but the archangel wouldn't allow it.

Sam silently yelped as Michael pulled him close, wrapping his hand around his waist, the other hand still extended towards Dean. The hunter dared say nothing, just watching Dean's expression, but feeling extremely weird being in the archangel's embrace , no matter how familiar it actually felt like. Maybe that was the problem.

But Dean stepped closer and all other thoughts vanished from Sam's mind, watching his brother assess him, and apparently deeming him trustworthy as he fell into their joint embrace. His body leaned more onto the archangel, but hand reached and shakily wrapped around Sam. His eyes filled with tears as he gasped, his chest aching, but feeling so much joy for being able to connect with Dean, in any way.

Michael said the word "Bror." and somehow Sam knew it meant brother. And then the archangel did the damnest thing, his hold loosened and he stepped away only a bit, his hand still resting on the small of Dean's back, and in the next moment, Sam was embracing his brother, shielding him and knowing, finally knowing he was truly safe.

Tears flooded his face as he held onto him, not too loose, but not to tight, and barely breathing, he whispered the word "Sikker."


	12. Plain and simple

Dean woke up alone. Ever since they gotten to this weird place, Michael has been acting differently and Dean wasn't sure he liked it. He has been distant and careful and he has been holding back. Didn't he want to feel him anymore? Didn't he want to connect to him anymore? Didn't he... Love him anymore?

But at the same time, he felt oddly warmer. Nicer. Not quite the way he used to be and that part Dean liked. His grace seemed a little sad, but at the same time so vibrant and calming and just... Better. Has something happened to Michael to make him change? Did the man with the deceitful eyes have something to do with it?

Michael's eyes were a delicate shade of green, unlike any shade he has ever seen on any of his vessels. So soothing and peaceful, every time Dean would gaze at them, his sense of serenity would grow and he would be filled with an incredible amount of optimism, freshness and all around happiness. They were soft and romantic, always reminding him of spring.

The other angel, one Dean could sense bore not a spec of Michael's grace, but was so compliant and with such beautiful blue eyes that reminded Dean of fresh water springs and the clear skies above, he just knew they meant no harm.

But that third man, the man with deceitful eyes... Dean didn't know how he felt about him. His eyes would sometimes look exactly like Michael's, carrying warmth and love, and then they would turn into something between the green and the blue and anger radiated out of them. And sadness. Lots of sadness.

Dean had to get up. He had to go and search for Michael and make sure he wasn't hurt and that he wasn't in pain and that he hasn't left Dean behind. Deep inside his whole soul trembled at that thought. He wouldn't do that would he? He would leave him behind?

No, no, no, no, no, he couldn't... He wouldn't... Right?

Dean's breath hitched and tears started to built in his eyes and then he heard it. He heard the deceitful eyes yell and he just had to go and see if Michael was there and if he was hurt or...

Please don't let him be hurt. Dean couldn't survive if he was hurt.

There he was again, the tall deceitful eyes yelling and he knew the man's anger was directed at his Michael, because he could feel how Michael felt. He could feel his sadness and his guilt and the giant sized gaping hole in his chest and it hurt. It just so damn much to think his Michael was in so much pain. But it wasn't because of the tall man there, no. It was something more, something deeper.

"It's ok, Dean. You're... You're... Sikker." The tall man spoke and Dean grew confused as he stared at him. Shouldn't his hair be shorter? Shouldn't he be younger? Shouldn't he be at... Palo Alto? And then it hit him, he knows him. He always knew him. But how? Next thing he knew he was embracing the much bigger man, but the man felt so much smaller in his arms and so ready to fall apart, shaking and crying. And he wanted to sooth him and he wanted to make him feel better like he... Like he always has?

The tall man slowly stepped from his embrace and looked over at his Michael with such gratitude in his eyes that Dean thought they have finally settled whatever it was that was keeping a wedge between them. And he was glad. He was happy. The tall man wasn't the bad guy and he didn't have to worry about him taking his Michael away. Michael was 'sikker'. Michael was safe. And all was good with the world again.

Well, almost. Dean was still saddened that Michael wouldn't connect to him, but he hoped it would change now that things were settled between him and the tall man. And Dean was positively radiating happiness when Michael lead him back to his bedroom for more sleep. He wasn't tired, so he won't sleep, but he was with Michael once again and he was content.

No, he was happy. He was joyful. There wasn't anything between them anymore and maybe Michael would let his soul connect to him? He felt deep inside how his soul is practically dancing with joy and delight and when he looked back at Michael, he could see it was affecting him too. Tentatively, he closed the distance between them and looked up to meet those soft, loving eyes.

"Dddean... What... What are you doing?"

He wanted to say he wanted show him his love, but all it came out was "Mye elske." A spark of old Dean resurfaced as he felt annoyed with himself for not being able to express better, but no matter. He will let his soul do the talking for him.

The tendrils of the brightest, most fragile soul reached forth, enveloping the archangel like so many times before (or so Dean thought), and it was so surprised to find a tender, soft edged grace that should be familiar, but it wasn't and it was. This was Michael, right? What has happened to him? Another part of the old Dean awoke, his protective side wishing to comfort and consolidate the archangel, his soul wanting to wrap itself around his grace and make it feel... 'sikker'... safe... 'elsket'... loved.

Dean reached, mimicking his grace, and wrapped his hands around the much larger archangel, and brought him closer. Just like with the tall man out there, Michael seemed to have shrunk in his arms, curled up to him with his face pressed in the crook of Dean's neck and finally... Finally!... Allowed Dean's soul to connect to his grace.

Michael gasped, his eyes closed, his mind swimming, feeling so lightheaded, but so good, fulfilled and so complete for the first time in his whole existence. He breathed in, breathed in the scent of Dean, while his heart pounded as if it was his own and not his vessel's and tears started to form in his eyes and he let them, let them fall, because he couldn't keep them in anymore. He couldn't play and pretend anymore that he was the strong one, he never was.

His shaky lips brushed against Dean's skin, the scent of Dean - _safe_ \- _mate_ filled the air around him and he leaned, drawn by the amazing feel of it all, and placed one tender kiss right on the crook of Dean's neck. Dean breathed in and bathed in feel of those soft lips against his skin, reaching out and intertwining his fingers with the short hazel hair, and gripped it tight, but still somehow gentle as if he wanted to show him he wanted Michael to keep going.

So Michael did, mesmerized by the taste of Dean's skin, the smell of it, by the body that was pressing up against him, the grace that befell upon him like the softest, fluffiest blanket and he kissed the man, kissed all the way up his neck, behind his ear and across his freckle dusted cheeks until he reached his lips. He paused there, uncertain and weary, his soft green eyes fearful as they met the strong emerald ones and Dean leaned in the rest of the way, and set one affectionate kiss on those thin lips, mustering all the care and love he could and slowly started to move, his hand slipping to cup the archangel's face.

It was so breathtaking, one magnificent kiss, so sensational and just... giving, and it wasn't on the physical plane, no... The unselfish soul finally touched that fearful grace, merged with it and they melted in each other as they always should have. As they were always meant to.

And now Dean understood. This, this was his Michael. That is what was different, he could feel it deep down in his core. The one before was nothing but a pale, feeble copy of the archangel that stood before him now, and for the first time he felt... Whole. Complete.


	13. Funny moments

It has been over a week since they made that first connection and Dean's progress was actually quite amazing. He hasn't remembered everything yet, only a few things about his old life and they were more random than meaningful.

Like some kid named Lucas Barr and a ghost trying to drown him before Dean saved him.

Or a kid named Matt Pike and facing a large room filled with bugs.

Or a woman named Amanda Walker and saving a whole plane of passengers while humming Metallica.

But he still didn't remember Sam, not really, not to mention Castiel or the others. He still didn't remember his father, not his death, nor his mother's return. And he still hasn't spoken. Not in English. Those few words he let out in Norwegian, he repeated them a few times.

The real spark was when he first reached out to Michael through their mental bond a few days prior. They were all in the library, about to sit and eat when Michael noticed they forgot to bring out sodas from the fridge (Dean was still a long way before he will be allowed beer).

He jumped off his seat with a smile and said he would fetch them, but he didn't even take a proper step away from the table when Dean's voice echoed in his mind. He gasped and reached out to the nearest part of the furniture to steady himself because it felt like his knees were about to give up on him. He took a few deep breaths, turned his wide eyes back at Dean and asked: "What did you say?"

"What are you talking about, nobody said anything." Sam said, and Castiel tilted his head in consideration. Michael stared at Dean who was looking more around Michael than directly at him. Michael gasped yet again as the hunter's voice vibrated through the bond and Dean's eyes slowly turned mesmerised by something in the air.

"Telepathic connection?" Castiel deduced and Michael just nodded without taking his eyes of Dean. "What did he say?"

"Wings." Michael simply replied. And that was it, wasn't it. Not only could Dean communicate more, but he could also see Michael's wings, considering how his eyes were darting around the archangel.

"Vinger?" Castiel asked.

"No... Not Norwegian. English." Michael explained. And that... That was amazing. Dean just blinked, and refocused on his burger and dug in like nothing happened, smiling contently and enjoying his food.

Since then, Dean had shared a few words though their bond, mostly one or two at the time. They were mostly connected to something he found exciting at that particular moment, like burgers, bacon, Scooby, pizza, sexy, Daphne, apple pie, beer, TV, lips, blue, yummy, safe.

They were sitting in Dean's room, watching Scooby Do... Well, Michael was sitting and Dean was snuggled in his lap, he just wouldn't sit anywhere else when they were alone. He was distractedly placing soft kisses along Michael's jaw line and caressed his neck and back with his hand, all that making the archangel aroused, but he fought against the feeling.

They haven't really moved past kissing and a few touches here and there, no matter how many time Dean would try to initiate something more. Not once has Michael said a firm No, explaining that he would not take advantage of Dean in this state. He wanted to wait until Dean was fully recovered and 100 percent himself again, so that he could make that decision. Because once the deed is done, and their bond fortified with a merger, there will be no going back. They would become one.

Strangely, Dean seemed to understand that to an extent.

But this was Dean. Nobody said he couldn't tease.

So when Dean's hand slightly travelled across his bare back, because yes, Dean needed skin to skin contact as much as possible, Michael tried to fight the feeling, but almost lost it as Dean leaned and placed his plush lips against his earlobe and whispered through their bond. _"Wings."_ Michael gasped, feeling Dean's hand slip across this plane and straight into the feathers of his invisible wings. The archangel visibly shook from the sensation, his erection stiffening to the point of blowing right underneath Dean's ass as the little tease started roaming his fingers through the feathers. The words choked in his throat as waves and waves of pure ecstasy hit him one after another, not letting him breathe properly.

A knock on the door brought Michael back and he quickly reached for Dean's hand and removed it from his wing, then shouted "Come in." So Sam did. He opened the door, and peeked inside, learning his lesson by now not to barge into the room.

" _Cockblock_.."

"Hey, guys." Sam said with a small smile. Confusion flashed across his face as Michael huffed a laugh and raised a questioning brow at the archangel.

"Sorry... Dean um... He just called you... A... A... A meddling kid!" He lied. Well not lied, just sort of said it nicer then Dean did. Sam figured he had interrupted a moment, but when didn't he interrupt a moment between them since Dean was constantly all over the archangel. He huffed a smile in response and glanced at Scooby Do on the TV.

"Yeah, that sounds like something Dean would say. Anyway, I am going to go for a supply run, we are out of ... pretty much everything. I will also pick something up for dinner, any preferences?"

"Whatever you think Dean would enjoy."

"Burgers it is."

" _Pie_."

Michael looked up at Sam and frowned and Sam frowned back, and awkward silent conversation that they still haven't mastered. But then Michael winked at the younger hunter having recently learned the exact meaning of that action. He pushed Dean away slightly only to be able to look into his eyes and then asked:

"Anything you would like, Dean?"

" _Pie_."

Michael kept looking at him like Dean didn't communicate a thing. He glanced at Sam and then back at Dean.

"Well, Dean?"

 _"Pie._ "

"I guess he doesn't want anything." Michael said looking back at Sam who caught on to the game the archangel was playing.

"You sure you don't want anything, Dean?" Sam questioned.

" _Pie_!"

"Doesn't look like he does." Michael replied.

" _Pie_!"

"Oh, well. Guess I can be off then." Sam said.

" _PIE_!"

"Ok, I'll see you later, guys." Sam said turning away.

"ie..." came a silent, strangled whisper from a man on the verge of tears.

"What was that?" Sam asked softly.

"Ie.. Ie... PPpp... ie..." Dean pleaded and Sam smiled at him, his own eyes brimming with tears and swelling with pride.

"Don't worry, Dean, I won't forget the pie." He spoke and reached out to squeeze Dean's shoulder reassuringly. A moment later, he was just about to exit when he remembered something and turned back to the guys. "Oh, and Cas went to Kansas City to help out a few hunter friends. You guys gonna be ok all by yourselves here?"

"Of course, Sam, nothing to worry about." Michael assured and watched as Sam nodded and left the room. When he turned back towards Dean, he was expecting a pissed of look, not a devilish smirk and a playful look in those green eyes.

" _Alone_?"

"Yes, Dean, we are alone in the bunker, but that's fine, I will keep..." Michael tried to explain but grew instantly pale as Dean's smirk widened into a Grinch like smile as the voice interrupted what he was saying.

_"Payback time."_

* * *

A very skinny, nerdy looking kid walked down the sidewalk of a random town in a random state. He had heavy glasses, pants up to his chest and a polo shirt, and acne like a real movie like dork. Only those weren't really acne, it was his skin burning up from the grace his body was trying and failing to contain.

The kid looked annoyed, frowning in disgust at his own reflection. But then a poster in the window caught his eye and the archangel searched the kid's memories to see just who the tall, muscular blue eyed blond on the poster was.

Turned out, he was a soldier, a perfectly engineered soldier with a strong body and a lot of endurance, one that should be able to contain him long enough to face his nemesis. What the archangel didn't bother to find out is that the man on the poster was nothing but a fictional character from a Marvel Universe, and as such didn't really exist.

Which was a shame for the actor named Chris Evans. True shame, indeed.


	14. Beautiful

"Dean? What are you doing?" Michael asked as Dean leached onto his neck, his soft lips planting hot wet kisses all over his skin making him shiver. Dean was still situated in his lap and the little fucker took full advantage of that, rocking his ass back and forth, grinding against the archangel, sending tiny jolt of electricity all over his body.

"Dean... Please..." Michael said, not completely sure he wanted Dean to stop. But he knew this wasn't right, that Dean wasn't ready... That he wasn't ready. Gently, his hand slipped over Dean's chest and applied the tiniest amount of pressure. Immediately, Dean pulled back his bright green eyes so sad and filled with hurt.

"No, Dean... Don't..." The archangel sighed heavily. "I am sorry, I... Please understand. We aren't ready for that step yet..." Dean kept his sad gaze on him for a few minutes, before he sighed and closed his eyes. The sound he let out was so goddamn sad, it almost made Michael regret pushing him away.

"Dean... You know, I would give you the world. But you and me both know you're not strong enough not bear it yet." Michael said and Dean seemed to consider his metaphor. After a moment he rose his gorgeous green eyes and just stared back at Michael.

The archangel leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek, just to show Dean he still cared, and he watched Dean close his eyes, relishing the feel of Michael's lips against his skin. Their eyes met again, and Michael smiled at him before nodding towards the TV. They watched for a little while and then Dean got off and headed for the door.

Michael didn't need to ask, he could feel that Dean needed to use the bathroom, and since their growing bond was getting stronger by the day, Dean felt safe enough to go alone. Michael felt safe enough to let him. But when after 8 minutes, 54 seconds and 99 milliseconds, Dean did not return, Michael grew worried. He could still sense that he was in the bunker somewhere, but not much beyond that. If Dean didn't want to show off his emotions, Michael had no way of knowing what was going on with him.

Suddenly there was a huge fear spike coming though their bond, a feeling as if Dean had been burnt, gone as fast as it came, followed by a flat line and Michael jumped and was out the door before the ninth minute was up.

"Dean?! Where are you?" He checked the hall, he checked the bathrooms. Nothing. He checked Sam's room and he checked Cas's room. Nothing. He checked the war room, he checked the library. Nothing.

"Dean?!"

He checked the kitchen and there Dean was, sitting at the table, his hand wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. They haven't given him coffee in such a long time, worried the caffeine would overstimulate his nightmares, so it was mostly some soothing tea with loads of honey. Dean looked up, his fearful eyes begging the archangel not to take the treat away from him.

"Oh, Dean." Michael huffed a smile. "If you really wanted some coffee, you could have just asked. Not like I could deny you anything. Much." To that, Dean's lips widened in such a happy smile, Michael could help but gasp at the sensation it sent throughout their bond. His own smile grew, the feeling so warm and fuzzy like a soft blanket covering the coldness of his skin he didn't even realize he was feeling. Dean slowly put the mug down, got up, took another mug and poured it with the hot black liquid. He glanced at his own, knowing that he took it clean, no sugar, no creme, and then back at Michael's.

Taking a moment to consider what he was doing, he glanced at the archangel himself, those giddy green eyes turning the archangel into mush, and nodded, apparently figuring something out. Dean took the creme and added it to the coffee, skipping sugar and handed the mug to Michael.

They sat across each other and took their mugs, Michael copying Dean's every move. He knew he wouldn't feel much, he knew he wouldn't taste coffee the way humans do, nothing but a set of molecules, but Dean wanted him to try, so naturally, he would.

The smell of grounded coffee hit him first as he leaned the mug towards his face and it was... Strange, but so good. So intoxicating and calming and energizing at the same time, Michael let out a hum. He needed to find out, needing to know if it would by any chance taste differently then these things usually do, he lifted the mug closer and let the dark liquid slip into his mouth.

Probably due to their bond, Michael could, for a split second, actually feel the divine taste of those grounded coffee beans before the sensation became overwhelming, the hot coffee burning his tongue and he yelled, dropped the mug and backed away, almost falling off the chair. Quick to regain himself, he looked over at Dean, hoping he didn't scare him with his silly actions, and caught him laughing his ass off.

The laughter reached his ears and and he knew now why the humans called it a heavenly sound, but in fact it was no match for anything back at his home. He huffed a few laughs, his tongue still slightly burning, but he didn't care. He didn't want the pain gone because it reminded him of how it made Dean laugh, and right now... That was everything.

Dean's eyes grew softer and he slowly rose from his chair, the mug forgotten on the table.

" _Hurt?"_

"I'm fine, Dean." Michael assured verbally. Dean was still using their bond to speak, but Michael would always reply out loud, trying to convince Dean to do the same.

_"Hurt. Sorry."_

"It's ok, Dean. It doesn't hurt that much and you have nothing to be sorry for, I just wasn't paying attention." Michael responded, turning his whole body towards Dean, and the hunter took it as an opportunity to get close. He leaned in, his hand reaching out, fingers brushing over the archangel's lips, gentle and caring.

_"Still. Sorry."_

Michael was going to say something but all thoughts drained out of his mind when Dean leaned in some more and pressed his lips against Michael's. The archangel simply melted away and when Dean tugged him while still kissing him, Michael immediately followed, standing up. The sensation of those soft and coffee bitter lips against his own, send Michael into another intoxicating state, spurred on by Dean as the hunter slipped his tongue into his mouth and allowed the taste to fully explode, while at the same time soothing his burn.

Michael didn't even know when the kiss became so heated that he felt so warm in his own skin as Dean's hands roamed all over his naked torso, and he could even think straight to try and stop Dean from taking this further. They felt so good, those hot wet lips on his neck, on his chest, on his skin. It was like wherever Dean kissed a new sensation exploded within him, lulling and energizing, calming and intoxicating, soothing and uplifting.

Michael didn't even know when those soft hands moved from his chest to his back then down his tush pulling him closer, flush against Dean's body, and sending tiny impulses of pleasure up and down his spine. Those sneaky hands slipped under his pants, reaching for those perfect round globes and squeezing them, pulling the archangel's hips impossibly closer, his erection slotting next to Dean's and creating such perfect friction, Michael couldn't contain the moan that slipped out of his mouth, straight into Dean's as the hunter kept kissing him hungrily.

And then those confining pants were gone and Michael gasped at the sensation of those soft hands touching him, one brushing right under his balls, the other wrapping itself around his hard member, stroking just once. Dean pulled away and as he continued to stroke his angel, he watched him enjoy every movement Dean made with his eyes closed, his head falling back and his breaths so deep and short it was so hot to witness.

"Beautiful." Dean said, said out loud and Michael's eyes snapped open, his soft greens locking with Dean's vibrant ones, wide and lust-blown. Michael was already falling apart, but to hear Dean speak up just to tell him he liked him like this was so fulfilling and elevating Michael couldn't contain himself anymore. Dean's grip around his aching cock tightened as he stroked him and Michael let out a series of moans as he stumbled back, leaning against the counter. His legs shook, barely holding him up, his lips parted as his rugged breaths filled the room and a powerful jolt went through his system as he heard Dean once again.

"Beautiful."

Dean stretched the word and leaned back trapping his hand and Michael's stiff member between himself and the angel and leached onto his neck, trailing wet, sloppy kisses down to his chest. Michael was hit with another powerful wave of pleasure as Dean went back to kissing him and soon Michael was too lost to follow Dean's lips and his hands as they mapped every section of his vessel.

A squeal, a funny little, embarrassing squeal escaped his lips as he felt something so soft, wet and hot wrapped around the head of his throbbing cock and his jaw dropped when he looked down to see Dean's perfect, plush lips parting to take him into his mouth.

The sensation was... Indescribable, at least to the archangel. His every sense was in overdrive, his vessel's heart pounded like never before in its entire existence, the archangel couldn't get enough air into his lungs or stop his legs from shaking. He watched, with silent cries and whimpers of pure pleasure as Dean took him in, almost all the way, the head of his big cock hitting something soft and warm in the back of Dean's throat before Dean pulled back, then slowly starting to bob his head.

Michael was barely holding on, this being all new to him, but also so much more than that. If this was just anyone, his body would be stimulated to do what it would normally do in this case, but this wasn't just anyone. This was Dean. His Angel mate. The person that completed him, made him whole. This wasn't just about the cardinal please of a body, this ran deeper, courtesy of their strengthening bond.

He couldn't just feel this own body's waves of pleasure, he could feel what all of this was doing to Dean. He could feel just how much Dean loved to see him fall apart under his touch and his lips as if he wasn't one of the most powerful beings in the universe. He could feel just how this whole thing was making Dean aroused and elevated and it was too much, it was all just too much. Michael could hardly hold on as it was but when Dean picked up speed, applied suction and slightly squeezed his balls Michael felt the dam crack and the liquid spill, free and undisputed right into Dean's mouth as he cried out, his eyes flashing with grace.

He rode one wave after another as Dean swallowed it all down until the angel couldn't stand anymore, his legs giving up from underneath him. He buckled down and Dean caught him, Dean fucking caught him and helped him maintain his balance and even helped him to their room. He disappeared after setting the trembling angel down to the bed, probably to clean whatever mess they made in the kitchen and then came back, lied next to Michael and curled up next to him, his presence assuring Michael he was safe and that he could let go and rest.

Michael couldn't see it, not in the state he was in, but another piece of Dean came back, his protective, nurturing, caring side and as he listened to Micheal's breathing evening out, and watched the creases of his face relax, he smiled and whispered into the angel's ear.

"Beautiful."


	15. Jack of Hearts

Sam took a deep breath before he opened the bunker door. A few things still didn't sit well with him, but he shoved it all down, knowing that Michael's priority was Dean, to an extent which not even Sam could measure up to, or so it felt like it. And for what it seemed, it was more Dean's intention to make a connection with him, while the archangel seemed to be holding back. Still, as uncertain about this dynamic as Sam was, he knew better then to try and stand in its way - it wouldn't sit well with Dean. So Sam just let it happen and tried his best to help his brother heal.

Still, he never knew what might happen. He could turn a corner and find Dean pinning Michael against a wall, kissing him ferociously, or walk into a room and find Dean's hands roaming freely all over the archangel's naked torso and jeans (thank God he still wore those). Naturally, he would start entering rooms slowly, announcing his presence, not that it mattered most of the time, he would still walk into something he did not need to see.

But this time, the bunker was quiet. There was no one in the war room, no one in the library, no one in the kitchen and Sam sighed in relief. They were probably in their room. He took his time putting the groceries away and figuring out what they should have for dinner. He wasn't much of a cook, but he could do mac and cheese just perfectly, and maybe, Dean could remember more about him. About his life.

The rest of the afternoon Sam spent in the kitchen at his laptop, doing research for other hunters, some for his mom. She really wanted to be here, to see Dean, but after Sam explained his state and practically begged her not to come, with a heavy heart she agreed. To busy herself, she and Bobby took in Jack to help him train, now that he was human. They told him Dean was back and resting up at the bunker, nothing more. But he was getting antsy lately, so Sam sent Cas to... Distract him a bit?

"Holy fuck!" Sam yelled after looking up and finding Dean just standing there, leaning against the door frame, staring at him. Hearing him give that startled shout, Dean raised his brow and a small smile tugged at his lips and Sam closed his eyes heavily, shaking his head. Out of all the things he could have said...

Dean walked passed him, grabbed a mug and poured himself some coffee and Sam watched him, unsure if he should protest it not. But then Dean poured another, added just a bit of creme and handed it to Sam. It surprised the young hunter that Dean remembered how he took his coffee, especially after making sure he made his own black, as he usually drank it. Dean sat across Sam, took a sip and proceed to just stare at him. Sam frowned, not sure what Dean was doing or what should he do but then...

"Pie"

A huge smile spread across Sam's face to hear his brother speak again and he immediately jumped of his chair, muttering apologies and headed over to the fridge to fetch Dean his pie. Opening the fridge door, his eyes went over the piece of cake that Castiel brought for him two days ago, and a memory of Dean and the look on his face when Sam brought him cake instead of pie, back when his leg was broken and try were hauled up in Rufus' cabin, tracking down the Leviathans. *

Without even seeing what he was doing, Sam took out the cake piece, picked up a fork and set it in front of Dean. He had no idea why he did it, what did he think he might accomplish, maybe hoping that it would trigger a memory or something. Or maybe he just wanted to see the reaction. Dean blinked down at the cake confused, then lifted his curious eyes towards Sam.

"Pie?"

"Sorry, cake was all they had. Same thing, right?" Sam forced himself to say, even if he learned by now that it most definitely wasn't the same thing and if this was his brother really there, there was a good chance he might have gotten a punch for this stunt.

"Oh." Dean just stated and looked down on the cake pitifully. Slowly he took the fork, and stabbed the cake, looking so freaking sad, Sam was barely holding on no to yank it away from him and present him with the pie he _did_ buy for him. The sorrowful sigh that escaped Dean nearly broke his damn heart and he just couldn't take it anymore.

"Wait... Wait... I was joking, ok? I got you pie, I did... I didn't forget." Sam said jumping off his chair and nearly ripping the fridge door of its hinges as he pulled them open so hard. He took out the container and spun around to see a small smile spreading over Dean's face. Ok, so it didn't work, Dean didn't remember anything, but at least he was happy with his pie, safe and sound at their home and it was enough. As long as he is here and slowly healing, Sam will be ok.

With an ashamed, apologetic smile, he watched Dean take in a piece of pie, cherry filling dangling off his lips and he moaned so loudly, Sam couldn't help but feel a bit joyful. It was so Dean to do something like that.

But then Dean swallowed, and looked down at the pie and at the cake next to it and he squinted his eyes then raised them to meet Sam. There was some small amount of anger like feeling in them, maybe annoyance, like they were saying Dean knew what Sam did. That he pranked him. And then, much to Sam's growing fear, Dean's devilish smile spread wide, like he figured a perfect way to get back at Sam. The young hunter knew that look.

Dean's tongue slipped out, licking his lips of any remaining substance and wetting them enough to speak.

"Stric-tly in-to dick now."

'Ough, dude! That's... Ough, gross!" Sam said, but couldn't contain his laughter, hiding his face behind his hands. That line was something he said to Dean back when they were trying to find Dick Roman and he teased him about not using his laptop for porn anymore. He never thought the line would come back to bite him, giving him a mental image of Dean and Michael... _No... No... Not going there..._

The sounds of Dean's laughter echoed along with his, and for a moment, everything seemed right. Everything seemed to be as it should, and for just that one moment, Sam relaxed. And in that very same moment, his phone rang, scaring the bejesus out of him, and making Dean laugh at his reaction even more. Sam puled his phone from his pocket and relaxed seeing it was just Mary.

"Hey, what's up?" He answered, not acknowledging it was mom on the other side, not sure how Dean would react or if he would react at all, and the tone told her that he was with Dean, so that he had to mind his words.

"Hey, Sam. Listen, we got a small situation. Jack overheard Bobby and Cas talk about Dean and Michael and I don't know what he understood, but he stormed out of here, took Bobby's truck and headed your way. Cas and Bobby went after him, I hope they catch up to him before he gets into an accident, that boy doesn't know how to drive. I'm sorry, honey, I really tried to get him to stop, but when he heard Michael was there... He just pushed me aside and ran... That boy is so stubborn sometimes..."

"Yeah, he's a Winchester alright." Sam said with a sigh, watching Dean take his empty plate and put it in the sink.. "Ok, mom. I'll call Cas, see if he was able to catch up with him, and I'll talk to Michael..." Sam said biting down on his lower lip. Dean picked up a bowl of grapes Sam brought and pointed at them as if he was asking if he could take them. Sam nodded before he turned away from him and spoke a bit more quietly. "I'm not even sure he knows about Jack, so... I got this, mom. I'm gonna go call Cas, talk later, ok?"

By the time he said his goodbye and turned around, Dean had left the kitchen, probably to go be with Michael for a while. Sam sighed, hoping Cas will be able to catch up with Jack and that he won't have to interrupt his brother and his... angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may have went off the rails and decided to drag Jack into this, but bear with me, ok? I got a plan. Next up Dean and Michael fun times, I promise.


	16. Hungry for more

Michael woke as the door opened and he watched Dean enter slowly, trying not to wake him. He smiled at him, but when he tried to get up, he got a bit dizzy. Dean saw and rushed towards him, shushing him and passing on a glass of water. Somehow Michael felt drained. Tired. Or maybe not. It felt like it, but it also felt like he was in a daze of sorts and the next thing he knew he was shivering. Cold? He felt cold?

No. No, there was something missing. A part was missing, something wasn't right. Something wasn't as it was supposed to be.

Until Dean crawled into bed with him and snuggled close. The warmth had returned, the feeling of fulfillment growing more and more making Michael drift as if he weighed nothing. The smell of Dean, the feel of his skin drew him in and Michael followed the sweet smell, a mixture of apple and cinnamon, turning to face Dean. As if he was enchanted by it, the smell so sweet, he just wanted to see if it would taste just as good, so he leaned and pressed his lips against Dean's. The human immediately opened up to him and caressed his tongue with his, allowing the flavor of the warm pie to explode in his mouth.

Like a normal human, driven by that amazing feel, Michael moaned to the taste.

Hearing that, Dean pulled away and chuckled, not having expecting the mighty archangel to give out such sexy sounds. Maybe he would be willing to play some more?

He was always so restrained and always holding back, and Dean just wished he would let go. It's not like he was going to hurt him, Dean knew that. He just wished Michael would know it too. He trusted him, could he feel that. Or maybe that was what was bothering him, that Dean trusted him so easily? Dean saw this Michael as that other one at first, maybe Michael knew that. And maybe he didn't know that Dean knew the truth now? How could Dean show him?

Michael pulled away with a heavy sigh and went to get out of the bed, but Dean grabbed his wrist, fear in his eyes.

"It's okay, Dean. I'm still here." Michael said, but Dean shook his head and pointed to the bed.

"No, Dean. You need to rest and I... I am actually getting a little hungry." Michael said with a huh. Archangels never get hungry.

Dean offered his other hand and with a pleading look in his eyes, he hoped Michael wouldn't turn him down. Not that Michael ever could. The angel sighed but laid back next to Dean. The human's hand went up his arm to his shoulder and then down to his neck.

"Destiny." Dean whispered blinking at a memory that surfaced. Thanks to that growing bond, Michael felt the memory come to life and he saw himself using Dean's father as a vessel and telling Dean how he couldn't escape his destiny. He gasped as the memory played out in his mind, and then felt Dean's soft words echoed through their bond.

" _Can't escape our destiny."_

Michael closed his eyes and allowed Dean's entire being to vibrate through him.

_"I... I know Dean. I... I'm not trying to fight it, I just... I need you to get well before... I need you to remember everything and to heal and to fully come back so that... That I would know you accept me. I can't... It would break me if you went back to the old you and then just push me away. I can't..."_

Dean's warm hand cupped Michael's face, his thumb brushing against his cheek and Michael opened his eyes, meeting those kind green ones filled with adoration and love.

_"I won't. I need you. You complete me."_

Michael gasped once more as those words echoed through their bond and felt tears building up in his eyes, his every sense overwhelmed and his mind going into overdrive, the angel completely falling apart just by hearing those words. Next thing he knew, Dean's lips were on his again, the taste of cinnamon apple pie erupting in his mouth. It was Dean. It was all Dean, the taste, the smell, the feel on his hands on the angel's vessel, it was all Dean. It was all that existed in that moment and Michael suddenly felt the need for more. More contact, more feel, more.

His hands found Dean's body, his wide palms warming Dean's back while his fingers brushed against his skin, tracing, tickling, caressing. Those strong hands wanted to feel every inch of the body next to him, mapping his back and moving on to caress his shoulders, neck, chest. Feeling a little hick-up when he soft fingertips brushed over a nipple, the sensation echoed in his mind as if Dean had done it to him and not the other way around. Dean's moans and hums filled the room, sweet music to the angel's ears.

More. He needed more.

His lips parted Dean's, giving his human a chance to breathe and ventured across his cheek to his jaw, then lower, behind the ear and then downward, along the neck line. The sounds and the heavy breaths drew him into that intoxicating state he fell into back at the kitchen and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop, not until his lips tasted every part of Dean. There was a powerful jolt of arousal shooting up his spine and thought their bond as he captured Dean's nipple between his lips and heard the blissful whine that escaped Dean. Neither of them have done much at this point, but he felt like a train wreck already.

It was almost as if he could feel everything he did to Dean as if it was being done to him. He never knew it would feel like this.

And he just couldn't stop.

But... He didn't want to stop. Dean certainly didn't want to stop. So... Why stop?

Between one second and the next, Michael was up and flipping Dean on his stomach, tracing his lips all over his shoulders and upper back while his hard member pulsed in his jeans as it was pressed against Dean's ass. His action caused a wave of arousal to shoot through Dean and he could feel it too, the sensation urging him for more, more, much more. Still, Michael paced himself, wanting to track his lips all over Dean's body and plant soft kisses on every patch of his skin. Coming lower to the sweatpants Dean had on, his hands traveled across his hips, pulling down the offending fabric and Michael took in a sharp breath watching Dean lift his perfect ass up in the air to allow the waistband to slide down.

Already drunk with everything Dean, Michael placed a kiss on the small of Dean's back, and then his lips ghosted over one of the cheeks. He could feel the suspense building up in Dean, and he could feel him tremble, but even he wasn't prepared for that title wave of pure ecstasy that nearly knocked him over when he rushed forward and sunk his teeth into that cheek, hard enough to leave a small bruise, but not to break the skin. Dean cried out, but it was just pure pleasure, not pain, not a pit of hurt. The sensation almost pushed him over the edge and another surge of arousal hit him, he reached, clasped his hands over Dean's hips and took a moment to just stare down at Dean's form.

The moment seemed to take forever and Dean's wide eyes turned to Michael, uncertain what he will do next, up extremely excited to find out. And then his breathing grew heavier and heavier as Michael leaned back in and paused, then planted a small kiss on the other ass cheek, the touch of his lips sending a million goosebumps to crawl all over his skin. But then... Oh, wow.

Then Michael was flipping him over and started tracing kisses across his V line and between his thighs and going lower and lower and oh, oh, oh, oooh... Since when do the angels know how to do this? The feeling was beyond anything Dean ever experienced and he didn't know how he knew that, but he did, and the slow burn was killing him and at the same time lifting him so high, Heaven would be envious.

His breath hitched when he felt Michael pepper kisses closer and closer and then on his hard cock, slow and gentle, just a brush of his soft lips up and up and uuuupaaaasdasdklasdjlas...

Oh, when those soft lips touched the top and hummed as they picked up a bead of precum and the tongue came up to lick any residue both on those soft lips and then they licked all over the head of Dean's throbbing member. The wetness of that tongue, the warmth and the sweet, sweet friction made Dean feel like he was on fire, and subsequently, Michael could feel it too. He could feel just how good this felt to Dean, and his mind just screamed more, more, more...

Those soft lips planted a kiss on the top and slowly parted, sliding around the head and the feel of all that was so thrilling, so uplifting, so fucking good.

"M..mm...mo..more... please... more... don't... oh, don't stop... please, don't stop..." Dean actually spoke up, and Michael's heart clenched because he could feel Dean's fear. Fear that Michael would stop, that he would back out and leave him unfulfilled. It hurt, it hurt that he allowed such thoughts to even come to Dean, and he blamed himself. But no more. He has to stop pushing him away. He has to embrace him. Dean needs him to.

Lowering himself, Michael slowly took all of Dean in, and watched as Dean closed his eyes, his mouth parted and not a sound came out, choked down but the incredible feeling Michael could relate too. And then he lifted up and slid back down, and up and down, and then adding a bit of tongue to help the friction and to that, a very hot whine managed to escape Dean and he could feel it, he could feel just how close Dean was and how good it felt for him and how he wanted to make him feel it more, to feel more, more, more...

His eyes glowed and with one rapid movement he slid down once again, the head of Dean's cock hitting the back of his throat and Dean exploded in his mouth and like thirsty man straight out of the desert, he drank it all, each and every drop as Dean cried out and rode out his first of many heavenly orgasms. The sound of his voice and the feeling of Dean flooded Michael and it was too much, way too much for him to handle and he too felt the waves crash against his shore and making him let it out. Let it all out and come into his pants. Completely untouched and unstimulated and completely satisfied and saturated. Or is the word _satiated_ that is of a better use here?

**Sam:** _Michael... I am sorry if I'm interrupting, but I need to tell..._

**Dean:** _For once, you are not..._

**Sam:** _D... Dean?_


	17. Learning new tricks

Sam never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he could actually speak to Dean now, in a way, thought Dean isn't quite Dean yet, but on the other... Him acquiring some of Michael's powers because they were apparently sharing a profound bond... No, wrong angel. A deep-seated, no... Deep-rooted? Yuck.

Metaphysical bond. That'll do.

Sure, Michael explained what he was to Dean and what Dean was to him and that they are basically Jin and Jang, but the colors don't mix. The colors don't mix, damn it! Black stays black and white stays white, there is no gray area.

"That might be true, but the black does hold a spot white and the light does hold a spot of darkness." Michael pointed out while Sam paced the length of the library, shooting him unamused looks. Michael tried to speak on a few more occasions, Sam's bitch face stopping him short a few times, until he finally managed to find words.

"I know this is far from ideal..."

"That's an understatement!"

"... However! Dean is getting stronger by the day, his body already healed, his mind not too far behind and at this rate, it is only a matter of a few days before he is back to 100 percent." Michael stated.

"Try higher. Cause I am pretty sure my brother wouldn't like having archangelic powers!" Sam snapped back.

"And he wouldn't. He would just be borrowing them, if he needed them. This... What happened in there was just a learning curve..."

"A learning curve?! Are you fucking kidding me? He intercepted our conversation then conjured me a dog because he didn't want me to feel lonely and apparently dogs are good companions. He freaking hates dogs..." Sam shouted while Michael just sat there and let him vent. He just wanted this to be over so that he could go and eat something because he was starving.

The dog wandered over and licked the back of Michael's hand as if he understood his anguish and the archangel smiled down upon it. He was a mixed breed, something close to a golden retriever, thought he was a bit smaller, his fur more chocolatey hazel then honey gold, but his eyes... Oh, those sad puppy eyes...

"Are you even listening to me?" Sam asked and as soon as he did, the dog lifted his head up and sniffed the air. It darted it's eyes at Sam and came closer, his nails tapping on the ceramic floor. It brushed the length of its body against Sam's leg, then curled up on top of his foot and let out such a sad whine.

Sam sighed.

"Fine. But he has to stop stealing my socks. I already caught him stealing two pairs and he has only been here an hour!" Sam demanded and Michael just shrugged.

"Why are you telling me? Tell him that." He said pointing to the dog, who lifted his head back up as if it knew they were talking about him. The dog let out a huff and then something not a small whine and settled his head down on Sam's foot again.

"Is there any leftover pizza?" Michael suddenly asked and Sam looked up from the dog, his expression turning confused for a moment.

"Pizza? Oh, right. Pizza. For Dean. Yeah, there should be some..."

"No, for me... I am getting a little famished." Michael said patting his stomach and jumped of his chair. As soon as he did, the dog jumped to it's feet and followed him and Sam just stood there, drawing a blank.

"Oh, whoa... Wait. Wait... Here... You know, Sam - Michael shouted from the kitchen - just because he was conjured, doesn't mean you shouldn't feed him."

If Sam didn't know any better he would look up at the sky and ask God what he had done to deserve this. But there was no God up there and he probably did do something to deserve this so with a heavy sigh, he walked to the kitchen where he found Michael feeding cake to the dog.

"Hey, hey, no, no, you can't feed..." Sam tried to say and to yank the cake with chocolate away from the dog, because everyone knows it is bad for them, but the dog growled at him and didn't go back down to eat until Sam backed away, and even then the dog kept a firm gaze on the tall man.

To that, Michael huffed a smile and Sam snapped his pissed off eyes at him.

"Sorry, it's just that... He reminds me of Gabriel. He would always stuff himself with sweets and growl at anyone who tried to take his treats. Let him have the cake, it won't hurt him. He's magical, you know?" Michael said and took another bite of his pizza.

Something in Sam's eyes softened at those words and he looked down on the dog. The hazel fur, the kind brown eyes kind of reminded him of Gabriel too, or at least of his vessel. Even the stealing of his socks as a for of a prank... It felt like him. Sam huffed a smile.

"Loki."

"What?" Michael asked mouthful.

"Loki. That's his new name."

"Oh. I like it. Suits him." Michael said and they just stood there, Michael and the dog eating and Sam crouching by Loki, watching him eat with amusement.

Suddenly, the dog's head snapped up and it darted all around, sniffing, looking much like he was alarmed by something. The squeal of the bunker's door sounded and Sam frowned before realizing who it might be. Between Dean and his powers and the dog, Sam completely forgot what he wanted to tell Michael.

"Jack! Jack wait!" Castiel's voice echoed and Sam quickly scrambled to his feet and ran out of the kitchen, Loki and Michael right behind him. They ran into the War room, and only caught the tail of Castiel trenchcoat as he disappeared down the hallway that led to the dorms, shouting at Jack to stop. By the time they reached him, they saw him standing in the doorway of Dean's room, frozen in shock and their own eyes widened once they took in the sight that welcomed them.

Jack was on the floor, blood dripping out of his mouth and nose and Dean tentatively and warily crawling towards him, a mix of worry in his expression. His fingers brushed over the boys cheek, removing a string of hair of his forehead as Dean's curious look examined him.

Then he let out a small whimper, lifted the kid's head and placing it on his lap, he caressed him and rocked them back and forth humming Hey Jude.


	18. Healing

Michael sighed as he shut the door of Jack's room, but when he looked up, both Sam and Castiel were there anxious and worried. Maybe even fearful, or was Michael just imagining it?

"I... I can't heal him." He said sadly, but with a frown. "I don't understand... It's... It's like a part of him is missing, but his soul and body are intact, there shouldn't be anything missing. He... He is human, correct?"

Sam and Castiel exchanged glanced and Michael knew there was more to the story then just some sick kid. Maybe he should have looked deeper within him, tried to find what was it that made him tick, but he didn't want to cause the boy more unnecessary pain. So he waited while the angel and the young hunter exchanced a silent conversation before Castiel stepped forward.

"Jack is... Half human. Half angel..." Castiel said and was cut off by Michael before he could explain.

"A nephilim? The boy's a nephilim? What... What happened to his grace?" First thing that struck both Sam and Cas was that the archangel didn't refer to Jack as It, as an abomination. Sure there was some odd drawback in his tone, a small dose of fear even, but concern for Jack's wellbeing was much more evident.

Still, this is not a simple thing to explain.

"His father took it from him." Dean's sad voice echoed from behind and they all turned to see him standing shyly leaning on a doorway. Michael gasped, and Castiel and Sam whipped back to face him, frowning and confused. They saw Michael's eyes flaring grace white, then Dean's too as if they were connecting through their bond. It lasted less then a minute and when it was done, Michael gasped again.

"Oh, no... No... What has he done? Lucifer..." Michael said with a devastated tone, and it was obvious Dean let him in, showed him his memories. Without saying anything else, he swung the door open and rushed into Jack's room, the motion startling Sam and Cas, and they both had the same idea, the same fear that Michael might hurt Jack in a way now that he knows what Jack truly is.

Because nephilims are abominations. They are unnatural, a thing to be feared and a thing that God Himself condemned.

But when they ran in after him, they were astounded to find his neck sliced open and his grace floating freely from the wound to Jack's lips. After a moment or so, Jack's pale face grew some colour, his cheeks turning up a slight blush and his breathing not so shallow, more restful, so Michael stopped the flow and sealed his wound.

"There, this should help until we find a more permanent solution for my nephew." Michael said and walked out of the room, letting the kid rest, and leaving behind two open-mouth, gawking-in-surprise people who never saw that coming.

* * *

Michael woke dead of the night, gasping. The small amount of grace he gave Jack reconnected with him and showed him the kid's nightmares, memories of how Lucifer took his grace, then tried to make him battle Sam to death. How Jack chose to end his own life because he knew Sam and Dean were more important to this world then he was and how, in the end, Dean came to rescue him.

It was unfair, what he had to go through just because of who he was, but Michael was glad that he at least had Castiel and the Winchesters to show him there is good in the world, good worth fighting for.

Dean's hand was on his chest, rubbing small comforting circles and humming a soft tune to help him relax. The angel's hand came up and he placed it over Dean's, thanking him, then turned around and kissed his temple. It was amazing how Dean asked for nothing, but gave his whole self and Michael felt bad, because there was still a small piece of him that held back. Well, not held back, because Michael promised himself he wouldn't do that anymore, but rather a part that was somehow glad they didn't go all the way yet.

It was fear, Michael was sure. Fear that he would get too lost in this bond and that he won't be able to protect Dean. Even if their bond was cemented and there was no way to break it unless one of them decided to, nothing could tear them apart. Which in normal circumstances, would be ok. But there was another version of Michael out there, and this Michael feared that that bastard might just hold enough power to break them apart and take Dean away.

"Not gonna happen." Dean muttered and Michael huffed a smile at his still sleeping form. As much as he would like to believe his words, doubt still found its way...

"No doubt!" Dean grumbled and Michael, still smiling just blinked at him. Their bond was getting stronger by the day, no matter what and there is a chance it will reach it's peek and if Michael let's that happen, he will become like a wild animal in heat and he will loose control over his actions... Wait, no, that's not...

"Dean? Are you..." Michael started , not sure he wanted to finish, because he knew that wasn't how this worked and if he was correct, Dean himself was planting those ideas in his head. A small blush crept over the hunters face as he kept pretending to be asleep, curling into himself and the sight was so endearing, Michael couldn't really blame him.

Right now, if Dean wanted to, he could push him into this, but of course Dean didn't want to. Dean wanted him to... Want him. To let go of all the fears and doubts and let it happen, let them become one. And Michael felt bad for denying him that, because Dean deserved everything he got.

"No, I don't." The hunter grunted, shying away further and that line saddened Michael. Truth was Dean was becoming more himself with each passing day and his fiery self was coming back, his whits and his strength, but also his self-doubt and worthlessness he carried with himself. Because he was always pushed aside, something or someone always more important than he was.

"Yes, you do." Michael countered and Dean just scoffed, angering Michael. "You, do, Dean. You deserve the world. You deserve everything you want and more."

Dean sad eyes glanced up at the mighty archangel, and he never seemed so small that right now, his eyes shining with a question in them, asking if he could dare to believe him. A full ache tightened around the angel's chest and he spoke up.

"You are worthy of everything on this world, Dean, and beyond. And, if you'll let me... I will show you."


	19. One

Michael just stared into Dean's eyes for a moment, no thoughts, no feelings, no nothing. Dean blinked, the look in those light green eyes scaring him, his lower lip started to shake. The movement drew Michael's attention and he looked down on Dean's lips and tilted his head, looking a little curious now. Then he leaned, and Dean sighed content, figuring he would get to taste those sweet lips, but was completely confused when Michael caught his lower lip between his teeth.

His lips sealed over it and he sucked it in.

Dean gasped as Michael's arousal came crashing through the bond, instantly sending him on the edge and he had to take a few deep breaths just to calm his racing heart and delay his approaching orgasm. Talk about coming untouched.

"I will show you... You deserve it all, and I will show you... You are worthy... To me... So, so much, Dean, can you feel it?"

"Y... Yes..." Dean shakily let out as Michael trailed kisses down his neck, whispering into his ear.

"You wanted to feel it all, you want us to make that final step, don't you?" Jesus, what did he think, saying stuff like that while he was pressing his body against Dean's and... Okay, now he's on top of him. Good. Breathe Dean, just breathe.

"Y... Yes..."

God this felt good, this felt right. Saying Yes to him, to the right one, to his angel.

"I will show you... Show you just how special you are to me Dean... I will let you see... And I don't ever want to see you feel less then you are, you understand?"

"Y... Yes..."

"You are the most magnificent thing I have ever had the privilege to set my eyes upon, to be able... To be allowed to touch you, taste you, feel you... There is no greater reward, no higher cause. Only you Dean. Only you."

It wasn't just sweet nothings he was telling him as his hand found its way under Dean's shirt and caressed all over his chest and abdomen. No, these were genuine confessions, Dean could feel them all unravel for him to see through the bond. Michael was finally opening up to him, opening up completely and this was happening, finally, this was happening and Dean found himself clutching at Michael's shoulders, the fear that he might pull away still constant.

"I won't, Dean. I won't, I promise." Michael spoke, his voice breaking. "I won't, please believe me. You believe me, don't you?! You trust me? Say you do, please... I..."

"Yes! Yes, I trust you." Dean managed between breaths, all of Michael's emotions hitting him at once.

"And I you. With all of my grace. With all of my being. I trust you Dean." And he did, he trusted him when Dean showed that he was ready, that he wanted Michael, whole of him.

With a single thought, whose it didn't matter, all of their clothes were gone, Michael's rock hard erection slotting right next to Dean's cock and Michael reached between them and grabbed them both with one hand, his hand grace warm and the feeling tingly. He stroked once, twice and Dean was already cumming, gasping for air and seeing the stars.

Subconsciously he parted his legs and Michael moved back just a bit, letting his heavy cock fall down to the matress and bob up, right in front of Dean's entrance.

"I trust you, Dean. And I give myself to you completely because... You complete me." Michael said and slowly sunk in, the grace floating between them preparing Dean for the breach without any need for a physical preparation. Dean just opened up to him and welcomed the archangel with such a gluteal moan that seemed to affect the Earth itself, creating an avalanche in the Alps and a small earthquake in California, but too silent for a human ear.

Michael kissed him, soothing his arousal into something a bit more soft and a bit more emotional as they both remained still, the archangel burried deep inside. Connected on this physical level strengthened the bond even further, almost as if they were one and it allowed Dean to ground himself, otherwise he would be overwhelmed with the surge of... No, not power. Not grace.

Something else... Something that made him see it all, feel it all like no other human could. It felt like he could actually reach and pluck the moon, like he remembered how the stars were made. He could hear the pure water streams running in the distance, feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, taste the sweet nectar of the first apple. It was like he was everywhere and no where.

And then...

Then Michael started to move. He started to move, sliding in and out and the volcanoes erupted, a supernova exploded, tsunamis arose, hurricanes blew and he was caught up in between, weightless and completely consumed with the feelings of Michael, his legs wrapped around the archangel as they floated somewhere in space.

The quicker the pace Michael set out, the brighter his and Dean's eyes glowed until the moment it became too bright, the grace completely bonding with Dean's soul, merging into one and with shouts of pure ecstasy, they both came, Dean spilling between them and Michael spilling inside of Dean, marking him as his for the rest of eternity.

Dean never through it would, it could feel like this. His whole life he felt as if there was something missing, and he thought it was his mother's presence, or his father's approval, or his brother's care, because truth be told, he always wanted those, but never really got them. Not when Mary came back, not when John told him he was proud of him. Even Sam... He would never go that extra mile like Dean would for him. That is until he set Michael free.

Dean blinked and looked up at the archangel still burried inside of him, their eyes meeting. Confusion and surprise swam in Dean's green eyes as he looked deep inside Michael's worried and waiting ones. It was almost like he feared Dean would shove him away, push him aside.

But that was only because he knew...

Dean remembered everything.

Dean was Dean again.


	20. This is me now

Dean stood by Jack's open door, observing the kid. So many thoughts and memories attacked his mind, but it wasn't those of Michael or even his own. It was if that other one, that bleak copy. The things he had planned for Jack, before Lucifer took his grace were horrific, but the ideas he had once the kid lost his angelic side were... abominable.

And to think he would have made it all possible if Dean surrendered to him... to think he was that close of getting too lost into something that wasn't...

Dean took a deep breath and let it out, breathing to try and calm his racing mind. It was okay now. They were home, they were safe and that is all that mattered. His family was safe. And he will make sure they stay that way.

The bunker doors screeched and Dean immediately frowned. It was nearly 3 in the morning, who could it be? Cas was... here in the bunker, he could feel him. Mary was out with Bobby, has been for a while, Jack is in his room and Sam is...

Apparently walking the dog in the middle of the night.

Loki was a handful.

Dean stood at the library watching Sam descend down the stairs and smile at him.

"Loki needed to go out." He said as an explanation.

"Yeah, well, you always wanted a dog, now you gotta walk him in the middle of the night in the rain. Gotta take care of it, Sammy." Dean spoke back and watched as Sam did a double take, letting go of Loki's leash as shock washed over him.

"D... Dean?"

Dean half smiled, nothing really happy about his expression and nodded, looking guilty and troubled.

"Heya Sammy."

Next thing Dean knew he had his mouth full of hair, his arms full of the big sasquatch and was being slightly lifted in the air and crushed by a massive hug.

"You're back! Holy shit, you're back! You're... You're you again."

"Mgmgmmgmgmg..."

"Oh, right, sorry, sorry..." Sam said as he placed his brother on the ground and took a step back, but with his hand still lingering on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I am..." Dean said trailing off, and Sam immediately picked up on the tone in his voice.

"Are you... are you alright? Where's... Where's Michael?" Sam said glancing behind Dean down the hallway.

"Michael is..." Dean started glancing back too "Michael is asleep. He is... drained? Tired! He is tired! That's... that's what he is, right. He's tired."

"Dean?"

"Where's Cas? And what... what happened with Jack is he..."

"Dean."

"Yeah?"

Sam gave him one of his trademark bitch faces and Dean sighed. He knew he would have to face the music when it comes to Michael and talk to Sam about it, but he so wished he did have to do it right now. Still, if he has learned anything from his experience as a hunter and as a big brother that would be that things like themselves were like a band aid. Best to rip it right off.

"Dean, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah... everything 's okay, Sam."

"You wanna grab coffee? I made some before I left with Loki."

"Sure." Dean replied and motioned for Sam to lead the way. It felt awkward. Sam knew, basically about what he and Michael were and he seemed okay with it as long as Dean was getting better. But now that Dean is... well himself and doesn't need to rely that much on the archangel...

I mean he was the strong one, a warrior, a ladies man and now... He is involved with a man. And not just a man, a freaking archangel, a supernatural being. Damn, John would be rolling in his grave if he was buried and not cremated.

They reached the kitchen, Loki following them playfully wiggling his tail and Sam set out for the coffee maker. Not sure what to do, Dean looked around for a moment and then opted to sit on a tall chair by the island. Sam poured him a cup and handed it to him before pouring one from himself. Dean took a sip, then Sam took a sip and just when he finished, Dean took another sip. Sam pulled a face, but went along and took a sip. Then Dean sipped, and then Sam did, Dean, Sam, Dean, Sam, and then there was no more coffee in the cup.

"You're stalling." Sam said and he picked up Dean's empty cup and turned around to wash them. Dean took a deep breath, about to protest and then let it out with a sigh. Not much point in arguing about it, Sam knew him well.

"I am." He confessed.

"Is it about Michael?" Sam asked turning back around, crossing his arms and leaning on the counter. Dean gulped and just nodded.

"You do know I kinda know about you two, right?"

"Well, yeah... but... that was... before." Dean said, not sire how to even keep going. Maybe it would be easier if he just let Sam ask.

"And has something changed?" Sam asked and Dean looked at him with a _well-duh!_ expression.

"I mean besides you being you again. Anything else change?"

"Nou..." Dean said as silently as he could.

"Okay then. You trust him? Because if you're you, if you're back, 100%, and you say you trust him, that's all I need, alright? So, do you trust him?"

"I... I..." Dean tried. Of course he trusted him, there was no issue there. Even if he wanted to, Michael couldn't hide a single thing from him, not with their bond complete. Dean knew his every move, his every thought, his every feeling as clearly as it was his own, maybe even better.

No, this was about something else, something deeper and more important then trust. And Dean needed to know if his brother could accept that.

"I... I love him." He said and felt a surge of love and comfort coming from the archangel.

"Oh. Well, that's..." Sam tried clearly not having expected that. Dean looked down, feeling ashamed, even if he knew there was nothing to feel ashamed for really and the surge of comfort from Michael intensified.

"Okay." Sam finally blurted out, quick to compose himself. He knew they had a deep bond and that they were some sort of soulmates or something, but he had o idea Dean would actually feel that way. No just for an archangel, but for anyone really. Not to mention confess it like that. But he supposed Dean would have to in this case. He would want Sam's opinion, his acceptance.

"Okay. That's okay. I... If you're happy, like really happy, then I am more then okay with that. I am happy for you, Dean. I real am." He said and Dean rose his head and looked deep into Sam's eyes. He couldn't lie to him before, Dean would see right through it, and he certainly couldn't lie to him now, Dean would sense it. A huff of relief left Dean and he smiled, seeing that his brother truly meant it.

He meant it and he was genuinely happy for him and that's all that mattered.

"Hello, Dean." Cas sounded from the door, interrupting them and walked into the kitchen, then paused mid way to the coffee machine, and squinted his eyes at his friend. "Are you... Dean?"

Dean huffed a laugh. "Hey, Cas. Yeah, I am back and I..."

Whatever Dean was trying to say was forgotten as a crashing sound echoed through the bunker and the red light came on, the alarm blaring. Dean was on his feet in a second, and charging out of the room, Sam, Cas and Loki right on his tail.

Coming up into the war room, Dean caught a glimpse of Michael and Jack running out of the opposite hall, but what drew his attention was the man crouching in a pile of rubble that used to be their map table. He wore something odd, like leather tights with pads, blue with a hint of red and white. His hair was blond, his face masked by the position of his arm.

It was when the man arose, his head held high that Jack gasped and shouted out:

"That's Captain America!"


	21. Body, Mind and Soul

_Holy fucking shitballz Batman!_ is the thought that crossed Dean's mind for some reason, an image of an old Batman movie flashing before his eyes. But this wasn't the time nor the place for any shenanigans, for jokes and lame comebacks.

Because he knew that wasn't really Captain America there. He was nothing more but a fictional character. And Dean also knew this wasn't Chris Evans, the actor that played Cap. No, he could feel exactly who it was hiding beneath the surface. He could sense him.

"Michael." Dean spat out, Sam gasped, Loki whined, others snapped their eyes at Dean and the hero wannabe just looked smug.

"Well, hello Dean. Interesting to see you up and about... Have you forgotten about me already?" Chris's full red lips drew out into a smirk unbecoming for that face.

Dean dropped his firm gaze, pure fear washing over them and the memories of what was done to him came rushing in. He tried to breathe, he tried to put back on that cocky mask and tell that asshole, that ancient being to go shove that arrogant smile up his ass, like he has done to all of those far superior beings who thought they were better then anyone else.

"And here I thought you would miss me... And miss our time together..." Chris's batted his lashes, his light green eyes trying to mimic the real Michael's, Dean's Michael. Dean clenched his fists, trying to fight through that paralyzing fear, that disgust, wishing he never remembered who he was, never remembered the trauma and never remember how his body was used and misused for only one purpose - to assume control over his mind and soul, to make him compliant and to make him open up and give himself to the wrong one.

"Dean..." Michael, his Michael tried, voice soft and Dean felt him reach out through the bond to try and soothe him, to help him, but the fear was too strong, the feeling of nothingness, of worthlessness taking him over as the other Michael latched onto the bond and tried to forcefully take it over.

The others took the distraction to arm themselves with angel blades and proceeded to attack the unwelcomed guest, but were simply thrown to the side, Sam landing on a war table and sliding off with a loud thud, Castiel landing on a random machine and hissing when the buttons buried themselves in his back and Jack... Jack was thrown into a wall, hitting it with his head and slid down, bleeding and unconscious.

Michael tried to move, he tried to help, but was overwhelmed with the feelings coming from Dean, the paralyzing fear making him choke, feeling the vile rising up his throat, but he swallowed it down and did the only thing he could to try and break through.

"Don't listen to him Dean. Don't let him..."

"Oh, shuuuut up!" The other Michael said and threw Captain America's shield with all his might, hitting the other archangel directly into the stomach, making him double down. A few blisters popped on Chris's otherwise perfect skin, the vessel taking a huge hit with the power display. If Michael was just a mere human, the shield would have cut right through him, splitting him in half.

Dean flinched the moment he felt Michael getting hit, but the archangel cut of the pain, not letting it reach through to Dean. He didn't think that it might backfire, because by shutting down his bond, he made it easier for the other Michael to take it over.

As soon as he felt the bond give, the other Michael moved, with each step he took towards Dean, the more Dean caved, his knees giving up from underneath him. He just fell down as the other Michael took one last step toward him, then reached for him. His hand came into Dean's hair, making the bad kind of goosebumps arise, but just when Dean thought the douchebag would clutch his fist and jank him by the hair, the hand slipped past his temple and across his cheek, caressing him.

"I did miss you, Dean..." Cap spoke with his head held high, his green eyes boring into Dean's like he just couldn't wait to slide that hand lower and touch. Touch what he shouldn't be allowed to touch. Dean gasped once, then again and again as he tried to fight against it all, and somehow the sound turned into sobs, tears filling his eyes, because he couldn't. He was too weak, too broken. He was nothing. A worthless piece of a inferior race.

With a grunt, the real Michael rose to his knees, his face filled with pain, but still managed to utter soothing words, hoping they would conway what he could no longer send through the bond. "You're not worthless! You are not nothing! Dean... You... You are everything. To me... You are everything to me..."

"Silence!" The other Michael shouted, turning away from Dean and towards his counterpart. Grace swirled up, revealing those soft green eyes for what they really were, traitorous and deceiving and Dean watched as an unseen wave of pure force shoved his Michael away, slamming him into a cabinet, breaking all the shelves and a few bones too.

"No..." Dean whispered, unable to let out more. Tears finally spilled over, trailing down his cheeks and the bond tentatively reached for his hurt soulmate. The evil twin took advantage and ceased that bit of the bond, tying it to himself, laughing as he thought he stumbled on a perfect weakness. Something to crush Dean for good.

And to make sure he is the only one to get to have him.

He waltzed over to his double, took him by the throat and lifted him up, his feet dangling in the air. Then he laughed right in his face.

"You are so weak and pathetic. No wonder Father threw you in the Cage, you can't even bond properly. You are despicable. A sorry excuse of an archangel. Letting all that power just slip away..."

The other Michael's grip loosened just enough to let the real Michael speak, and he looked down upon him, then huffed.

"You're... The one that got it all wrong. It isn't about getting stronger or more powerful. It is about feeling..."

"Feeling? Like a mere human feeling?" The douchebag mocked. "Oh, please. You are just too ridiculous. We were meant to be so much more then... Then this..."

"You could never understand. There was never one made for you." Michael said and fury flashed in Chris's green eyes. Truth was, not in this nor in the other world has there ever been even a possibility of someone having an angel-mate and to find that his double in this was given one, was the biggest slap in the face for the other Michael. Like his Father showing him once again that he just... Isn't enough.

The other Michael gritted his teeth as his hand turned red, smoking and burning up with the grace he was using, tightening his grip around the weak archangel as the real Michael slowly choked.

"No, no, no... Please... Please, let him go. Let him go and you can have me, just please..." Dean cried out, heartbroken and devastated.

"You think I am stupid, that I will let him live?! So that he could come back for you. I don't think so. You'll be mine either way." The phoney Michael spat out, not looking away from the archangel, but could hear the moment Dean bowed his head, a small defeated sob escaping him, still too weak and broken to have the strength to fight.

But then...

With his last ounce of grace, the one, true Michael sent all his love, care, hope and comfort through what remained of the bond and the lesser archangel failed to see it, failed to feel it. And just as his Michael took his last breath, something in Dean changed.

Something snapped.

As the other Michael watched with content as his counterparts dead vessel fell to the ground, eyes scorched, he failed to see that there were no burn marks for the wings. He failed to hear that Dean stopped whaling. He failed to see the room darken and he failed to hear the deafening silence that befell on the room. All he had the chance to notice is the bond he forced, the bond he overtook suddenly snap, shatter in millions of pieces and he started to turn around when he unexpectedly felt sharp pain in his chest.

Sam woke up just in time to see it, amazed and baffled as Dean disappeared from his spot, appeared in front to the evil archangel and impale his entire arm through his upper abdomen all the way to his chest. He heard Michael gasp and scream in pain, and saw that Dean moved his hand inside him, like he was looking from something. It reminded him of the time Castiel shoved his hand into his body in search of his soul that wasn't there. That hurt like hell.

Dean paused, seemingly found what he was looking for, and by the look of his muscles spasms and his arm motion, he squeezed hard, engulfing the whole room in bright light and then, just as Sam could see again, Dean jerked his hand out, as if he yanked something free. Michael screamed out, and jerked his head back, his mouth dropping open and his grace swirling outside, rising up and making a hurricane above their heads.

Dean, or whoever that was, looked up at it as if he was slightly uncertain what to do, but only for a moment, then he brought his eyes down on Jack. Sam shouted a loud "No!" but it went unheard as the whole room shook and the grace screeched before it hurried to inhabit Jack's body. Jack slumped back down, motionless, but the cut on his head glowed golden and healed.

Dean turned towards Sam, his eyes shining grace blew before toning down to Dean's regular green. He just stood there, looking at Sam and the younger hunter had no idea what exactly happened, but it felt like it was over. Like the bad Michael was gone, for good. The only question now was...

"Michael?" Sam asked looking at his big brother, thinking Dean allowed him inside in order to defeat the other archangel. But Dean shook his head.

"It's me, Sammy."

"But, then... Where... Where is Michael?" Sam asked and followed is saddened line of sight to the Spartanian vessel that laid motionless on the floor.

"No..."


	22. All you need is love

Dean walked over to the body and fell on his knees beside it, not letting out a sound. He felt to devastated to even feel, so he just didn't. Didn't cry, didn't sob, didn't scream, didn't let the tears fall.

Didn't feel.

Sam reached out with his hand in a desperate need to comfort his brother, but his hand never reached Dean's shoulder. What comfort could he possibly give? He remembered what it was like, back when Jess died, he still felt the gapping hole she left behind. And to think that this thing between them was on a much higher scale... Nothing he could do would be even remotely enough. Not even close.

So he just stood there, in silence, his head bowed, his eyes lowered. Sam just stood there and mourned along with his brother.

Castiel came to and quickly took in of his surroundings and what had happened. He saw Dean and what remained of Michael's vessel, saw Sam standing there, saw Jack across the room and the blond vessel of the other Michael between them. He took a deep breath and swallowed down hard as he got to his feet.

On his way to check on Jack, he touched down on the poor actor and surprisingly found him still alive. He will have to heal him and wipe his memories, but there was a chance he just might make it. The angel didn't know what happened to the other Michael, but he was gone, he could feel that much.

Jack startled awake once Castiel reached him and blinked at him, confused for a moment. Castiel chanced a glance at Dean and Jack followed his line of sight, his face turning sad as he understood what happened.

The kid slowly rose to his feet and took a step towards Dean. Castiel grabbed his hand and shook his head and Jack looked back at Sam too see that the hunter glanced his way as well, but said nothing. Jack tugged on the hand that was holding it and Castiel let him slip away and let him walk over to Dean.

The kid crouched next to them and Dean glanced his way before returning his sad gaze to the body on the floor. Determination flashed upon Jack's face and he reached and took Dean's hand in his. Dean turned to him, but said nothing, only watched him. The kid pulled Dean's hand, reached Michael's chest and set it there, his own hand over Dean's. Then he closed his eyes.

If there was anyone who knew how to bring someone back from the Empty, to bring a dead angel back to life... It would be Jack.

Dean felt the warmth before he saw Jack's hand give out a golden glow and he took a deep breath, realizing what Jack was doing, what he was trying to teach him. And together, they could do this. Together they were strong enough.

Not because Jack was a full nephilim again, the other Michael's grace giving him his powers back.

Not because Dean now held his Michael's grace, that came to him during the bonding period.

No. It was because Jack loved Dean, loved him like a father and Dean... Dean loved Michael.

Dean closed his eyes and felt something soothing wash over him, like a soft mountain breeze mixed with the smell and sound of tidal waves and he could see it as if he was flying right above them... The oceans and mountains, the rivers and canyons, the lakes and ravines, the streams and plains and then... Bottoms of the ocean and depths of the darkest woods and the inside of the Earth itself. But then... The wide skies, fluffy clouds, the warmth of the sun... The stars, the open space, the galaxies.

The black hole.

"Michael..." Dean whispered.

Two seconds later, they were engulfed in bright light, and the Spartanian vessel's eyes flew open and he took in a breath getting into a seating position. Then smiled. And Dean smiled back.

And then, without saying a word, he leaned, setting his hand on Michael's neck and drew him in a long, soft kiss.

The rest of the room felt uncomfortable and everyone shifted and looked away, but didn't say anything.

Everyone froze when a woman's shocked voice echoed around them and went wide eyed at they met the gaping eyes of one Mary Winchester.

"Dean?"

Dean broke the kiss and blushed, his head still turned towards the archangel. A worried smile crept on his face as he bit his lip and without saying a word, he asked Michael if he would meet his mom. Warmth and comfort spread throughout their bond and Michael smiled at him. They both got up and turned to face the huntress.

As they walked closer, she glanced down at the poor actor still lying unconscious on the floor and frowned.

"Is that..."

"The other Michael, one from the other universe took him as a vessel. But, he's alive and that Michael is gone. He's dead." Sam explained glancing behind Mary at the other world Bobby and directing that last line to him. Both let out a small sign of relief, before Mary focused on her older son. She didn't know how she felt about what she saw, but she knew the world has changed since she was alive and that these kinds of relationships were viewed differently now. As her son and his... partner approached, she gulped down, thinking that at the end, it didn't matter what she thought. That all that mattered was that her son was happy.

"Hey, Mom." Dean said with a huge breath taken in. She walked the rest of the way and looked at him long and hard before she pulled him in for a hug. He hugged back, tight, closing his eyes and relishing in the feeling.

"Dean..." She let out and then pulled out of the hug, her hands still on his arms as if she didn't want to let go just yet. "... You're... You're okay?"

"Yeah, Mom. I'm okay now." He said with a smile and she huffed a smile of relief too. She glanced back at the man behind her son and smiled at him too.

"And this is...?"

"Michael." Dean responded. Mary went pale for a moment, remembering that Sam told her about their Michael and how he basically saved Dean and was helping him heal. He wasn't forthcoming on the details and Mary now understood why. Apparently, her son was involved with an archangel. That gay thing seemed completely unimportant now. In fact, a part of her wished she could go back and think of her son with a man and she would be totally okay with it.

Not that she wasn't grateful, Michael did save her son. Sam told her how Dean was when he first got here, how he didn't even recognize him. And if it weren't for Michael, Dean might have stayed like that, or worse. But to see him actually involved with an archangel was... Big. But something she would have to deal with. Because there was no other option, not really.

Because Dean reached and took Michael's hand in his, their fingers intertwined and they looked at one another the way... They was she remembered John looking at her. It was true love. And no way she would be standing in the way of that. No way would she try and ruin her son's happiness just because she didn't like it.

* * *

After Chris Evans was sent home, teleported to his bed, free of any injuries and memories of the past few days, everyone set to eat and Mary watched with amazement as Michael ate and ate, it seemed as if he gained her older son's appetite. It was a bit awkward, but still nice and at the end of the day everyone was safe and sound and that's what really mattered. They lived another semi-apocalypse, defeated another big bad and lived to tell the tail.

That night, they all retreated to their rooms and nobody even batted an eye to the fact that Michael and Dean shared one. Dean opened the door for his archangel and motioned for him to enter first, then followed him in. As soon as the door shut, Michael could feel his grace sweeping the room and he looked back at Dean with confusion. Fact was, thanks to the bond they shared now, Michael could experience things as a human would and in exchange, Dean could use his grace to do as he pleased.

"Dean? Why did you soundproof the room?"

"Because I want to get my way with you, and I am selfish and want to keep all those little sounds you make all to myself." Michael looked perplexed for a moment, then a small shy smile flashed on his face as he slowly backed away from Dean and towards the bed.

"Oh... And if don't make any sound?" He asked shyly teasing a bit.

"OH, don't worry, you will..." Dean said with a smirk as he took predatory steps towards the archangel. Michael's amused smile widened, but he still yelped when Dean launched himself at the angel, catching him off guard. They both fell on the bed, Michael on his back and Dean on top of him, but before Michael could say or do more, Dean sealed his lips over his and kissed him with so much lust Michael felt dizzy for a moment. He was lucky that Dean didn't sent his feeling of arousal through the bond, yet, and the little clear head he had allowed him to break the kiss to say to Dean:

"You are amazing, you know that? And you... You have every right to be selfish, Dean. You deserve it. So take. Take whatever you want, what ever you need from me." He said as he gazed into Dean's eyes. Dean watched him, eyes soft and kind and once Michael finished, Dean replied.

"You. I just want you."

Michael closed his eyes like he was hoping to hear that, relishing in the feeling of love that washed over him and then his eyes flashed open, the green in them so soft and warm, his hand reached for Dean's neck and pulled him down into a tender kiss. He didn't delude himself and knew the kiss would become heated soon enough, so he was enjoying this as much as he could before... Before his enjoyment would become of a slightly different nature.

And true to that, soon enough they were out of their clothes and Michael switched positions, getting on top of Dean and ravishing him with soft, kind touches and sweet kisses, making the hunter moan and whine and fall apart underneath him. He just finished his round down and up Dean's body, reaching back to his neck and leaving a trail of hot breaths and wet kisses, making Dean shiver, when he pulled back and looked at Dean with a slightly devilish smile.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one letting out all the sounds?" He teased. Grace flashed in Dean's eyes as if it was warning him, and Dean took his momentary distraction, grabbed his nice, firm ass cheeks and pulled the angel flush against him. Michael umpth-ed then let out a choked moan as his cock slid right against Dean's, the abundance of precome making the friction smooth and quite nice.

"You were saying?" Dean asked with a smirk, but Michael couldn't focus to get the joke, feeling tiny tingles in the pit of his stomach as arousal took over. Dean rose his head a bit, licked his way up Michael's neck, all the way to his ear and whispered "I am gonna make you scream..."

Electricity ran through the angel's system, his grace swirling and dancing and Dean, the little shit that he is, took another advantage of the diversion his words created, gripped the angel's hips, pulled him back and then slammed forward.

Michael shouted out as he felt his cock being engulfed by Dean's hole, the warmth of it and the way it just seemed to fit perfectly around him. The pesky thing of preparation was none existing here, the grace acting not just as a lube, but allowing Dean to stretch to accommodate Michael just right. Because they were just right for one another.

Dean threw his head back and moaned in sync with Michael's shout as the angel breached him, the two making the most orgasmic symphony together. Dean opened up, spreading his legs wide to let the angel slide in all the way and then hugged him with those now legs, tightening them and drawing the angel in.

Encouraged by Dean's motions, Michael started to move, slowly at first, then driven by the feel of Dean's sounds, his heavy breaths and his own perspective of it all, Michael moved a bit faster with each thrust. Before, he could feel that Dean wanted him harder and faster, but this time, the pace he set, slower then it was the first time they did this, seem to be perfect.

It seemed to lead them slowly to that high point, allowing them to think, to feel and not just blindly seeking pleasure. It allowed Michael to let his hands roam over Dean's body, feeling the muscles tense and relax as he pushed in and slid out. It allowed him to pepper kisses all over his chest because he couldn't quite reach his lips.

It allowed him to think, to have that little logical brain and to come up with an idea and he sped up a bit, letting Dean get lost in the sensation and then he sent a wave through the bond. Dean gasped loudly at the feeling of love he suddenly found himself engulfed by, never in his life experienced that much.

It was so much, too much and with the angelic force the threw himself forward, making the angel fall behind on his knees and getting a lap full of Dean, his cock still buried inside. Dean's hips rolled and rocked, faster and faster as he sent his own love through the bond along with all the hotness he could muster, just cause he could.

With a few thrusts, Michael's cock hit his prostate at a different angle and with a shout Dean came, spilling between them and clenching around Michael so hard, the angel cried out his own release as they truly became one. Grace shone bright in their eyes and love filled the entire world, washing over it like a nice summer breeze.

They rocked and rocked as they came down from that high, Dean's arms around the angel's neck and his face burried there too, while Michael held him. They stayed like that for quite a while, minds and bodies entangled, sharing whatever they could with one another. Michael was the first to move, trailing small kisses over Dean's shoulder and shivering when the hunter blew a hot breath over his neck.

They pulled away and smiled, then untangled themselves and laid down to sleep, Michael spooning Dean because Dean just seemed to like it that way.

There were no need for grand gestures or love confessions, those would be redundant. Both could feel exactly what the other one felt, what the other one needed and what they desired. They were built to be together, to come and become one. And now that they were...

The world was that much more of a safer and happier place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for this one. What did you guys think?  
> I was thinking of maybe trying another Michael/Dean story, one set in the current 15th season, what do you think? You want to see these two get together all over again and face God?
> 
> Also, I wouldn't mind hearing what you thought of this one, so comment away. 😁


End file.
